GIFT  OF 
Glass   of   1907 


"WHAT  HAVE  YOU  DONE?    WHAT  HAVE  YOU  DONE?" 
SHE  CRIF.I),  TKRHOR-STHICKKX. 


ON  TIPTOE 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  REDWOODS 


BY 

STEWART  EDWARD  WHITE 


WITH  A  FRONTISPIECE  BY 
THOMAS  FOGARTY 


NEW  S     YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


Copyright,  192%, 
"By  George  H.  Dor  an  Company 


W 


/  f  ' 


Copyright,  1922,  by  P.  F.  Collier  and  Son  Company 

ON  TIPTOE.     II 
PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


ON  TIPTOE 


1 4  7  G 


ON  TIPTOE 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  great  Intelligences  who  work  back  of 
our  ordered  universe  are  obscure  to  us. 
They  move  without  haste  and  in  their  own  good 
time.  Never  are  their  faces  revealed  to  us.  We 
are  aware  of  them  by  their  deeds,  by  their  shad 
owed  reflections  in  men,  by  the  interactions  of 
their  laws  which  never  change.  Nothing  do  we 
know  and  few  things  have  we  guessed  of  their 
intentions  or  the  aim  of  their  mighty  progressions. 
At  one  extreme  of  our  vision  the  primal  ooze; 
at  the  other,  men  as  we  know  them ;  beyond  that 
the  veil. 

Nor  clearly  can  we  evaluate  the  means  through 
which  evolution  advances.  The  moment  ripens 
to  transformation.  What  has  been  static,  as  per 
manent  as  the  eternal  hills,  becomes  at  a  pin 
point  of  time  fluid.  All  life  changes.  Some 
times  we  perceive  that  moment  appropriately 
and  magnificently  as  the  pomp  of  kings  and 
wars.  More  often  it  never  comes  within  our  ken. 
Through  a  channel  of  the  trivial,  in  the  passing 

7 


8  .-M ';.;::;/:;•;/:;  ON/  TIPTOE 

moments  of  obscure  lives,  unappreciated,  uncon- 
sidered,  unnoticed  it  steals  by.  The  great  Intel 
ligences  have  little  care  for  relative  values  in 
men's  eyes. 


CHAPTER  II 

THIS  is  a  swashbuckling  story  of  pirate  days. 
It  has  as  leading  characters  the  Buccaneer 
and  his  sinister  Second  in  Command;  the  Fair 
Damsel  in  Distress;  the  Bright- Shining  Hero; 
and  those  great  Intelligences  by  whose  caprice 
—or  by  whose  ordered  Law — our  tiny  world  car 
ries  on  among  its  millions  of  sister  worlds.  Fol 
low  and  you  shall  see  brave  adventuring,  and 
dastardly  plots;  and  a  fool  exalted  and  cast 
down  as  his  little  affairs  were  swept  into  the 
mighty  onward-flowing  currents  of  Fate.  So  up- 
anchor  and  away! 

At  the  moment  our  story  opens  the  Pirate, 
who  was  appropriately  named  Grimstead,  was 
leaning  back  in  the  stern-sheets  of  his  craft  smok 
ing  a  cheroot  and  listening  to  the  low-voiced  con 
versation  of  his  Second  in  Command.  He  was 
a  large,  square  built,  almost  elderly  man,  with 
thick  bushy  eyebrows  jutting  over  his  eyes 
sternly  like  a  pair  of  particularly  heavy  mous 
taches.  Gardiner,  the  Second,  was  much 
younger  and  slenderer,  dark  in  complexion,  with 
clean  shaven  face  and  an  inscrutable  eye. 

9 


10  ON    TIPTOE 

Neither  of  these  men  were  paying  the  slightest 
attention  to  anything  but  each  other.  They  left 
that  to  the  man  at  the  wheel.  Indeed,  the  man 
at  the  wheel  alone  seemed  to  be  at  all  aware  of 
his  surroundings;  for  the  only  other  human  be 
ing  visible  on  the  bobbing,  careening  craft  was 
the  Damsel  in  Distress,  and  she  was  completely 
occupied  with  her  own  thoughts,  which  seemed 
to  be  resentful  and  unpleasant.  As  beseemed 
her  position  in  the  story  she  was  young  and  beau 
teous;  indeed,  most  fair  to  look  upon;  and  as 
beseemed  the  fortuity  that  she  filled  also  the 
role  of  daughter  to  the  Pirate  Chief  she  was 
caparisoned  in  the  most  costly  garments.  The 
Bright- Shining  Hero  had  not  yet  appeared. 

Suddenly  and  most  unexpectedly  a  loud  bang 
sounded  under  the  port  quarter.  The  craft  stag 
gered,  and  a  crash  astern  announced  the  fact  that 
she  was  hit. 

"What  is  it,  Simmins?"  cried  the  Pirate  Chief, 
suddenly  aroused.  "Are  we  damaged?" 

"Blowout,  sir,"  replied  Simmins  sadly,  open 
ing  the  door  and  descending  to  the  road. 

He  walked  around  to  the  rear  of  the  car,  and 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  dismay  that  had  all 
the  flavour  of  an  oath. 

"When  she  blew  she  slid  into  the  rut  and  let 
us  down  pretty  hard  on  one  of  these  little 
stumps  in  the  middle  of  the  road,"  he  answered 


ON    TIPTOE  11 

Grimstead's  enquiry.    "The  gasoline's  leaking." 

Gardiner  joined  the  chauffeur. 

"It's  buckled-in  the  tank,"  he  announced 
briefly.  "We're  stuck." 

"It's  these  damned  foreign  cars,"  cried  Grim- 
stead,  "they  don't  give  'em  enough  clearance. 
Why  in  blazes  any  sane  man  buys  one  of  these 
expensive  fool  things  and  then  deliberately  goes 
off  on  a  trip  into  timber  gets  me.  And  I'm  the 
man!  I'm  crazy!  First  one  thing,  then  another, 
one  after  the  other !" 

The  Damsel  continued  to  look  straight  before 
her  with  uninterested  lack-lustre  eyes,  but  she 
opened  her  ruby  lips  in  a  filial  but  modern  at 
tempt  to  calm  her  parent. 

"Now,  dad,"  said  she,  "you're  behaving  like 
a  spoiled  child.  You're  the  only  one  who  wanted 
to  come." 

"Get  something  and  save  the  gasoline!"  com 
manded  Grimstead. 

"There  isn't  anything;  and  the  gasoline  is  all 
run  out,"  replied  Gardiner  calmly. 

"For  heaven's  sake!  Are  we  stuck  in  this 
Godforsaken  place?"  howled  Grimstead. 

"I'm  afraid  we  are,  chief." 

Grimstead  upheaved  from  the  tonneau  and 
descended  to  see  for  himself.  He  examined  the 
damage  carefully  for  a  moment;  then  straight 
ened  up.  His  surface  irritation  had  evaporated 


12  ON   TIPTOE 

in  the  face  of  a  real  situation;  and  the  executive 
ability  that  had  made  him  chief  of  the  pirates 
came  to  the  top. 

"We're  stuck,  all  right,"  he  agreed,  "and  as 
far  as  I  can  remember  we  haven't  passed  an 
other  car  on  this  road  all  day.  That  right,  Sim- 
mins?" 

"That's  right,  sir:  except  the  stage.'* 

"Is  there  a  stage?" 

"Yes,  sir;  runs  to  Tecolote:  up  one  day,  back 
the  next." 

"How  far  is  it  to  help?" 

"Nearest  garage  is  about  twenty  miles.  They 
might  have  something  at  Dennison's  Mills. 
That's  about  fifteen  miles;  but  it's  off  the  main 
road." 

"And  it's  now  four  o'clock,"  said  Grimstead, 
looking  at  his  watch.  He  considered  a  moment. 
"Well,  there's  only  one  thing  for  it.  We're 
stuck  for  the  night.  There's  probably  enough- 
grub  in  the  lunch  basket  to  keep  us  from  starv 
ing.  We'll  just  get  organised  and  eat:  and 
then  Simmins  can  start  out  and  hike  for  help. 
You  can  do  it  in  seven  or  eight  hours." 

"It'll  be  dark,  sir,"  suggested  Simmins. 

"You  can  take  the  flashlight." 

"I  don't  rightly  know  the  road,  sir." 

"According  to  the  map  it's  the  only  road." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  chauffeur  doubtfully, 


ON    TIPTOE  13 

"I'd  like  a  better  place  to  camp  in.  Just  like 
that  damn  foreign  car  to  quit  us  in  a  place  like 
this!" 

"There's  enough  gas  in  the  vacuum  tank  to 
take  us  a  little  way,"  suggested  the  chauffeur. 

"By  Jove,  that's  right!"  cried  Grimstead, 
whose  spirits  seemed  to  be  rising  to  the  adven 
ture.  "You  change  that  tire,  and  we'll  scout 
ahead  a  little.  Come  on,  Gardiner!" 

"Perhaps  Simmins  may  want  a  little  help," 
suggested  Gardiner. 

"All  right.    Want  to  go,  Burton?" 

The  Damsel  had  also  descended  from  the  car 
and  was  seated  on  a  stump  by  the  roadside,  star 
ing  straight  ahead  of  her.  "No,  thanks,"  she 
replied  indifferently,  "it's  dusty." 

Grimstead  threw  his  coat  into  the  tonneau  and 
tramped  off  up  the  grade  between  the  scattered 
trees,  a  square,  sturdy,  vigorous  figure  that  soon 
disappeared. 

Next  to  be  considered  is  the  Damsel  in  Dis 
tress.  Her  distress  was  heartfelt  but,  from  one 
point  of  view,  not  too  serious.  It  consisted  in 
the  fact  that  she  had  been  ravished  away  against 
her  will:  which  is  the  usual  and  proper  reason 
for  the  distress  of  females  aboard  pirate  craft. 
Her  will  was  not  accustomed  to  be  gone 
against.  At  this  moment  it  would  have  de 
creed  that  she  be  listening  to  the  dulcet  strains 


14  ON    TIPTOE 

of  Art  Hickman's  jazz  orchestra  at  the  St. 
Francis;  or  teaing — or  teeing — at  Pebble  Beach; 
or  mayhap  bossing  about  one  or  more  infatuated 
youths  in  any  old  haunt  where  sport  clothes 
are  correct  and  numerous.  Instead  of  which 
she  was  here !  Atop  a  stump !  On  a  barren  Cali 
fornia  hillside  of  high  brush  and  an  occasional 
tree!  Stranded!  Hot!!  Uncomfortable!!!  No 
wonder  the  lines  of  her  figure  were  unbend 
ing:  no  marvel  that  her  eyebrows  were  level 
and  that  the  regard  below  them  was — sullen? 
Out  upon  you!  This  damsel  is  young  and 
beauteous.  Smouldering  is  the  word.  And 
why  not,  prithee?  Must  we  repeat  that  her  will 
was  not  accustomed  to  be  gone  against?  Are 
your  public  appearances  so  few  that  you  have 
not  encountered  these  princesses  taking  their  toll 
of  the  world's  courtesies;  passing  the  policeman 
across  the  traffic,  with  a  ravishing  smile ;  slipping 
in  at  the  head  of  the  wearily  waiting  queue,  with 
so  gracious  a  bend  of  the  head ;  usurping  the  club 
tennis  court  on  men's  day  with  so  charming  an 
ignorance  or  ignoring  of  rules;  taking  as  the 
divine  right  of  sex  when  young  and  well- 
dressed?  Surely!  And  getting  away  with  it. 
And  perhaps  you  are  one  person  in  ten  thou 
sand  and  a  philosopher,  so  that  you  are  sorry  for 
these  poor  little  ornamental,  charming  prin 
cesses;  seeing  what  mankind  is  doing  to  them 


ON    TIPTOE  15 

toward  making  them  women  first  and  human 
beings  afterward,  instead  of  the  reverse0 

Such  a  philosopher  would  have  seen  in  the  fig 
ure  of  Burton  Grimstead,  sulking  on  a  stump, 
a  sacrifice  to  men's  ideas  of  caste  and  sex  and 
all  the  rest  of  it.  Of  the  remainder  of  the  ten 
thousand,  the  younger  half  would  have  sympa 
thised  heartily  with  Burton,  by  gad !  dragged  off 
into  the  sticks  right  in  the  middle  of  the  Del 
Monte  Tournament:  and  the  other  half — us — 
would  have  muttered  things  about  spoiled  brats — 
first  thing  an  indulgent  father  had  ever  asked 
her  to  do — can't  give  up  a  single  one  of  her 
selfish  pleasures,  etc.,  etc. — and  would  have  re 
gretted  that  she  was  too  old  to  be  spanked. 

And  none  of  this  would  have  affected  Miss 
Burton  in  the  least.  She  knew  perfectly  several 
things  that  neither  the  philosopher,  nor  her  fel 
lows,  nor  we  could  guess.  When  her  father 
insisted,  in  face  of  her  first  careless  refusal,  that 
she  join  him  on  this  trip  into  the  backwoods, 
she  was  vastly  surprised,  but  not  greatly  put  out. 
Burton  was  fundamentally  a  sweet  natured  per 
son.  Only  she  couldn't  make  it  out.  He  was 
always  going  off  on  these  trips  into  the  back 
of  beyond;  and  he  generally  asked  if  she  didn't 
want  to  go  along.  But  she  was  by  nature  a 
civilised  creature.  Small  country  hotels  did  not 
appeal  to  her.  After  one  experience  she  invari- 


16  ON    TIPTOE 

ably  declined,  and  the  refusal  was  accepted. 
But  this  time  Grimstead  said  he  particularly 
wanted  her  to  go:  indeed,  he  was  going  to  ask 
her  to  go.  There  was  not  much  to  be  said  after 
that!  not  to  the  Pirate  Chief!  And  then  when 
at  the  last  minute  she  found  that  this  Gardiner 
person  was  to  be  in  the  party,  she  saw — and  re 
sented — it  all.  The  Pirate  Chief's  diplomacy 
was  Teutonic  in  its  subtlety.  Burton  had  met 
Gardiner  before.  She  did  not  like  him;  and  she 
did  not  care  whether  he  was  the  Second  in  Com 
mand  of  the  piratical  craft,  part  keeper  of  the 
loot,  principal  deviser  of  stratagem,  or  not. 
From  the  moment  Gardiner  hove  in  sight,  she 
resented  the  whole  transparent  affair  bitterly. 
So  you  see  there  is  something  to  be  said  for  her 
after  all. 

Of  course  that  depends  a  good  deal  on  how 
well  you  like  the  Second  in  Command.  There 
would  seem  to  be  no  reason  why  you  should  not 
like  him.  He  is  tall,  slender,  very  dark,  with 
regular  movie-queen  dark  eyelashes,  a  sleepy 
well-bred  supercilious  expression  on  his  thin  long 
face.  All  his  movements  are  languidly  graceful. 
He  is  exceedingly  well-dressed.  His  ability  is 
enormous.  He  knows  all  about  electricity,  and 
water  power,  and  oil  wells,  and  Diesel  engines, 
and  railroads,  both  theoretically  and  practically, 
for  these  things  are  some  of  the  loot  the  Pirate 


ON    TIPTOE  17 

Chief  has  captured.  In  addition  he  is  exceed 
ingly  well-informed  on  all  the  latest  discoveries 
and  inventions  and  theories  of  what  makes  our 
little  world  act  as  it  does.  Nor  is  he  either  a 
prig  or  a  highbrow:  but  quite  able  to  hold  his 
own  gracefully  in  any  society.  Burton  said  she 
didn't  like  him  because  he  played  no  bridge  nor 
golf :  but  that  was  not  it.  She  had  other  reasons : 
— no,  not  reasons,  instincts.  Personally  I  think 
she  was  right;  for  I  do  not  like  him  myself,  al 
though  I  am  both  old  and  a  philosopher.  But 
I  am  willing  to  extend  him  my  sympathy  as  far 
as  this  particular  expedition  is  concerned.  He 
was  not  having  a  hilarious  time;  unless  a  worm 
is  hilarious. 

At  the  present  moment  he  did  not  attempt  to 
approach  the  aloof  young  goddess  on  the  pedes 
tal.  Instead  he  gave  needed  assistance  to  the 
chauffeur.  It  was  necessary  to  jack  the  car  up 
very  high  in  order  to  lift  the  wheel  from  the  rut 
into  which  it  had  crashed:  and  then,  after  the 
tire  had  been  changed,  the  rut  had  to  be  filled 
up.  This  took  some  time  and  a  lot  of  hard 
sweating  work.  In  spite  of  his  elegant,  almost 
foppish  air,  Gardiner  took  off  his  coat  and 
worked  as  hard  as  Simmins;  and  when  the  job 
was  finished,  he  was  just  as  hot  and  dirty. 
There  were  qualities  to  the  man,  besides  those 
necessary  to  boarding  and  scuttling. 


18  ON    TIPTOE 

By  the  time  the  job  was  finished  the  square 
heavy  figure  of  Grimstead  reappeared  at  the  top 
of  the  hill  and  approached  them  down  the  dusty 
road.  As  soon  as  he  was  near  enough  he  began 
heartily  to  shout  encouraging  remarks. 

"Found  a  great  place!"  was  the  burden  of  his 
lay.  Wouldn't  be  better!  Wouldn't  have 
missed  it  for  a  thousand  dollars !  Wait  until  you 
see!"  and  so  on.  Burton,  with  secret  contempt, 
recognised  a  false  note  in  the  heartiness  and 
joviality.  He  was  trying  to  jolly  her  along:  he 
was  propitiating;  he  felt  guilty;  he  was  afraid 
of  her;  her  consistent  loftiness  was  beginning  to 
get  under  his  skin!  With  which  reprehensible 
and  unfilial  thoughts  hidden  behind  her  cool, 
scornful,  aloof  demeanour,  she  descended  from 
the  stump  and  resumed  her  place  in  the  car,  be 
stowing  no  glance  at  either  the  silent,  handsome 
Worm,  or  the  guilty,  voluble,  fat  Worm. 

Simmins  took  the  wheel,  and  the  car  started 
slowly  up  the  grade.  At  the  rounded  summit 
Grimstead  said : 

"Shut  her  off,  Simmins.  It's  all  down  hill 
from  here." 

The  hum  of  the  motor  ceased.  Silent  as  a 
shadow  they  glided  around  the  corner  of  the 
mountain. 


CHAPTER  III 

AS  often  happens  at  skylines  in  California,  the 
nature  of  the  country  there  changed.  They 
had  toiled  up  an  open  hillside  of  scattered  trees 
and  dense  hrush.  They  slid  into  an  immense, 
cool,  high  forest,  with  dripping  waters.  The 
scale  of  things  had  been  changed.  This  should 
have  heen  the  abode  of  giants.  The  trees  were 
twenty  feet  thick  and  incredibly  tall.  The 
shafts  were  straight  as  columns,  and  through  the 
Gothic  windows,  that  here  and  there  penetrated 
the  dim  high  arches  of  their  tops,  struck  slanting 
bands  of  milky  light  around  which  was  trans 
parent  green  shadow.  In  the  upper  region  was 
a  great  simplicity,  an  absolute  nirvanic  stillness, 
and  an  incredible  dim  height. 

Burton  had  seen  redwood  trees  before,  at 
Santa  Cruz,  and  on  the  Russian  River;  and  had 
been  struck  small  by  them,  as  is  always  the 
most  careless  visitor.  But  never  had  she  seen 
one  of  the  redwood  forests  of  the  north.  The 
sullenness  in  her  eyes  was  replaced  by  a  startled, 
somewhat  awed  look.  For  here  the  columnar 
cathedral  effect  of  the  trees  themselves  was  fur 
ther  supplemented  by  the  growth  beneath  them. 

19 


20  ON    TIPTOE 

The  summit  of  the  mountain  they  had  crossed 
marked  the  dividing  line  between  the  damp  sea- 
climate  and  the  more  arid  interior.  Here  was 
abundance  of  moisture,  and  a  deep  rich  humus. 
As  a  consequence  the  tiny  road  twisted  through 
a  soft  padded  chamber  of  green  mosses,  of  high 
ferns.  There  were  no  harsh  angles,  no  raw 
patches  of  earth :  a  thick  velvet  covering  had  been 
laid  over  every  rock,  over  every  fallen  tree, 
and  everywhere  grew  the  gigantic  feathery  ferns 
in  clumps,  in  patches ;  from  the  crevices  in  rocks ; 
from  tiny  splits  in  the  living  trees;  from  the 
trunks  and  the  upturned  roots  of  the  fallen 
giants.  They  were  exactly  like  the  bracken  we 
see  on  the  hillsides :  only  here  they  were  eight  or 
ten  feet  tall.  With  them  too  the  scale  had  been 
increased.  But  especially  wonderful  were  the 
upturned  roots  of  fallen  trees.  Here  the  ferns 
had  grown  in  wide-flung  graceful  masses;  and 
the  bright  green  moss  had  spread;  so  that  the 
arched  roots  were  like  huge  florists'  baskets 
twenty  feet  high,  ready  to  be  lifted  and  carried 
away  by  their  arching  handles.  It  was  incred 
ible,  unparalleled. 

The  earth  of  the  road  was  damp,  as  though 
recently  sprinkled:  and  the  car  glided  along 
without  a  sound.  To  Burton's  eyes  it,  and  its 
contents,  and  the  track  on  which  it  ran  had 
suddenly  been  reduced  to  the  dimensions  and 


ON    TIPTOE  21 

importance  of  children's  toys.  It  was  of  the 
class  of  details ;  and  in  this  tremendous  simplic 
ity  was  no  space  for  detail  as  yet.  She  hardly 
noticed  the  brilliant  rhododendrons,  the  fringes 
of  fragrant  pink  and  white  azaleas ;  nor  did  even 
the  presence  of  tall  foxgloves  astound  her — as 
yet.  There  were  only  the  high,  solemn  trees; 
and  the  shafts  of  light  slanting  across  them ;  and 
the  huge  gracious  florists'  baskets  of  ferns  set 
among  them;  and  the  great  reproving  hush  that 
seemed  to  dwell  austerely  as  in  a  temple.  And 
too  there  was  a  smell  of  sweet  dampness,  and  a 
tinkle  of  innumerable  small  running  waters. 

The  motor  car  coasted  slowly  for  a  half  mile 
and  came  to  where  a  little  stream  crossed  be 
neath  a  bridge.  Here  a  tiny  patch  of  green  had 
won  for  itself  a  tiny  patch  of  unobscured  sky. 
It  was  not  over  a  hundred  yards  across ;  but  it  was 
bordered  by  pink  azaleas  in  full  bloom.  The 
brook  hurried  along  quietly,  only  muttering 
under  its  breath. 

"Stop  here,  Simmins,"  Grimstead  commanded. 
Somehow  the  fact  that  his  voice  sounded  nor 
mally  loud  and  audible  surprised  Burton.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  it  too  should  have  been  struck 
small.  "How's  that  for  a  camp!"  he  cried  tri 
umphantly. 

The  car  was  brought  to  a  standstill  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  grass  plot,  and  all  debarked.  Grim- 


22  ON    TIPTOE 

stead  was  loudly  and  bustlingly  efficient.  Gard 
iner,  as  usual,  glided  about  like  a  languid  and 
uninterested  spectator,  but  he  did  a  great  deal. 
Simmins,  quite  cheered  at  doing  something  ac 
customed,  hustled  out  the  lunch  basket  and  the 
thermos  cases  and  proceeded  to  lay  things  out  in 
seemly  and  proper  style.  Simmins  was  an  en 
gaging  person,  a  creature  of  the  moment.  His 
light-hearted,  gay  and  expansive  disposition  was 
warred  upon  sternly  by  his  sense  of  correctness 
and  good  form.  The  natural  self  within  him 
would  have  carried  him  through  life  skiptiously, 
like  the  giddy  goat ;  but  it  wasn't  done,  you  know. 
He  loved,  simply  adored  playing  up  to  his  part, 
which  was  solemn,  eminently  correct,  terrifically 
imposing,  and  he  could  do  it  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  dash  or  make  self-conscious  all  but  the 
drunkest  or  most  conventional.  All  the  while 
his  reprehensible,  natural  self  was  watching  him 
delightedly,  hardly  able  to  hold  itself  down  in 
its  enthusiasm  over  the  complete  success  of  the 
performance.  When  at  home  Simmins  became 
a  house  man.  In  this  capacity  the  one  fatal  mis 
fortune  of  his  professional  career  overtook  him. 
Burton,  unseen  herself,  had  witnessed  his  an 
swering  of  the  door  bell.  He  came  down  the 
hall  cakewalking,  a  wonderful  double  shuffle, 
snapping  his  fingers,  his  head  thrown  back,  his 
eyes  closed;  but  all  quite  noiseless.  Before 


ON    TIPTOE  23 

opening  the  door  he  made  it  a  wonderful  baller 
ina  curtsey,  spreading  the  tails  of  his  coat  wide. 
Then  he  turned  the  door  knob  and  instan 
taneously  a  wonderful  transition  took  place. 
Wooden  as  a  nutmeg  he  looked  ten  million  miles 
into  space,  his  elbows  snapped  out  at  an  angle, 
and  his  inflexible  sing-song  voice  declaimed  im 
personally  that  he  could  not  say,  madame,  but 
that  he  would  ascertain.  O  fatal  day!  Next 
time  he  tried  to  come  it  over  Burton,  as  usual, 
he  ran  against  a  snag. 

"Look  here,  Simmins,"  she  said  decidedly.  "I 
wish  you'd  come  off  the  perch  and  be  human. 
I  like  friendly  looking  people  about  me." 

61  Sorry,  Miss,"  said  he  non-committally  in  his 
best  manner.  "I  was  not  aware  of  giving  of 
fence.  It  is  pawsibly  the  results  of  my  train 
ing,  miss." 

Simmins  was  enjoying  himself  thoroughly. 
He  knew  just  when  to  put  the  accents  and  yet 
avoid  impertinence.  It  was  his  last  shot.  The 
next  instant  he  exploded  with  a  loud  report,  due 
to  a  bomb  cast  accurately  into  his  midst.  Miss 
Burton  had  seen!  He  gathered  up  his  pieces 
and  retreated  in  disorder.  For  a  long  time  his 
world  was  in  chaos.  He  never  did  quite  recover 
the  integrity  of  his  attitude  toward  Miss  Burton. 
It  wasn't  done,  you  know;  but  he  rather  liked  it. 

So  now  he  solemnly  spread  the  cloth  and  laid 


24,  ON    TIPTOE 

out  the  utensils  and  the  food.  Simmins  would 
not  at  all  relish  the  general  situation — stranded 
in  a  wilderness — but  he  did  not  stop  to  think  of 
the  general  situation.  All  he  bothered  with  was 
the  fact  that  the  lunch  basket  was  very  correct, 
the  appointments  were  very  correct;  and  the 
hushed  and  reverential  atmosphere  of  these  huge 
overarching  trees  was  worthy  of  any  butler, 
superlatively  correct. 

After  the  food  had  been  properly  arranged 
he  drew  away  to  survey  his  handiwork.  He 
paused  to  pluck  a  handful  of  azaleas  with  which 
he  garnished  the  corners  of  the  cloth.  Then  he 
drew  himself  erect. 

"Supper  is  served,  sir,"  he  announced. 

It  was  absurd :  but  it  was  sublime.  All  three 
of  the  travellers  recognised  the  fact  as  they 
came  to  take  their  places.  Gardiner  looked  with 
awe  upon  the  wooden  figure  standing  at  atten 
tion  ;  Grimstead  stared ;  Burton  cast  a  fleetingly 
mocking  glance  that  missed  by  a  thousand  miles. 

"Now  this  is  a  real  adventure!"  cried  Grim- 
stead  heartily.  He  was  still  uncertain  as  to  the 
mood  with  which  his  offspring  was  meeting  said 
adventure;  whether  she  considered  it  a  lark,  or 
all  his  fault;  and  like  most  fatuous  old  Pirates 
who  think  nothing  of  cutting  a  throat  or  two, 
he  was  abject  toward  the  essentially  unimpor 
tant  attitude  of  his  own  womenfolk.  "We  might 


ON    TIPTOE  25 

be  a  lot  worse  off!  Plenty  of  food;  and  hot 
drink;  and  a  warm  night!  We've  made  out 
worse  than  this;  haven't  we,  Gardiner,  my 
boy?" 

The  young  man  smiled  faintly  but  did  not 
answer.  He  saw  that  a  reply  would  have  no 
effect  on  Burton:  and  to  his  employer  it  was 
superfluous. 

By  now  the  afternoon  was  drawing  to  its  close. 
The  shafts  of  milky  light  had  lifted,  like  wands, 
and  had  disappeared.  Only  the  occasional  top 
of  a  tree  was  still  warmly  gilded,  as  indication 
that  the  sun  had  not  yet  set.  From  the  earth 
had  arisen  together  a  twilight  and  a  coolness 
that  flowed  between  the  bases  of  the  mighty  tree 
trunks.  Already  the  details  of  the  gigantic  fern 
growths,  and  the  florists'  baskets,  and  the  deep 
dark  vistas,  and  all  the  tracery  of  shrubs  and 
flowers  were  quietly  blending  into  a  monotone 
of  indistinctness.  It  rose  inch  by  inch,  like  a 
mist;  while  still  the  clear  sunlight  shone  hun 
dreds  of  feet  above.  And  from  this  dimness 
came  the  clear,  spaced,  mellow,  cathedral-like 
bell-tones  of  the  Hermit  Thrush's  song:  delib 
erate  as  an  immemorial  ritual. 

"I  think  myself  it  is  chilly,"  Burton  suddenly 
interrupted  the  men's  low-voiced  conversation. 

They  sprang  to  their  feet  and  began  to  search 
out  dry  wood  for  a  fire. 


26  ON    TIPTOE 

"No,  no,  Simmins,"  commanded  Grimstead, 
"you  eat  your  supper  and  clear  up  as  promptly 
as  you  can.  We'll  attend  to  this." 

They  built  a  fire;  and  they  brought  cushions 
and  robes  from  the  car,  and  settled  Burton  com 
fortably.  It  did  not  occur  to  either  of  them  to 
wonder  why  they  should  be  going  to  these  ex 
traordinary  exertions,  physical  and  moral,  to 
please  an  able  bodied  human  being  so  much 
younger  than  themselves.  When  this  was  ar 
ranged,  Grimstead  looked  around  for  Simmins. 
The  latter  had  finished  his  meal,  and  was  bestow 
ing  the  remainder  of  the  food  and  the  utensils. 
In  this  he  was  consuming  just  as  much  time  as 
he  possibly  could.  Grimstead  watched  him  for 
a  few  moments  in  silence. 

"Simmins,"  he  said  at  last,  "I  think  we  can 
stagger  through  to-morrow  if  the  nickel  plate 
on  that  thermos  is  not  polished  like  new.  Drop 
all  that  and  come  here." 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Simmins.  He  managed  to 
impart  an  air  of  verisimilitude  to  several  minor 
operations  that  consumed  several  minutes;  but 
at  length  approached  and  stood  with  his  elbows 
cocked  out. 

"It  is  now  six  o'clock,"  stated  Grimstead.  "I 
find  by  the  road  map  that  Tecolote  is  twenty 
and  three-tenths  miles  distant  on  a  straight  road. 


ON    TIPTOE  27 

By  walking  three  miles  an  hour  you  should  get 
there  by  one  o'clock,  or  thereabouts.  The  map 
says  there  is  a  garage.  Have  a  car  come  at 
once  for  us.  It  should  be  here  by  two-thirty 
at  latest.  You  will  come  back  with  it  and  be 
prepared  to  stay  here  until  we  can  send  out  a 
new  tank  or  a  tow  car." 

"Yes,  sir,"  hesitated  Simmins. 

"Well,  start  along." 

"Beg  your  pardon,  sir;  but  I  am  not  certain 
of  keeping  the  road,  sir.  It  seems  to  me  prob 
able  that  I  might  go  astray.  That  would  be 
annoying,  most  annoying;  to  you,  sir,  of  course, 
for  in  that  event  I  would  be  unable  to  meet  our 
engagement,  sir.  If  I  might  suggest  waiting 
for  daylight—" 

"Any  born  fool  can  stay  on  a  plain  road," 
growled  Grimstead.  "That's  nonsense.  Just 
follow  the  ruts  with  your  flashlight." 

"With  the  flashlight,  oh,  indeed,  sir;  quite  so, 
sir.  But  on  examination  I  find  that  the  flash 
light  is  not  working,  sir." 

"Not  working!    Let's  see  it!" 

Simmins  handed  it  over  and  stepped  back. 
Grimstead  tried  it,  then  took  it  apart  and  peered 
into  it. 

"Here,  Gardiner,  take  a  look.  I  can't  see 
by  this  cussed  firelight,"  he  said  after  a  moment. 


28  ON    TIPTOE 

"The  inside  connection  is  gone,"  was  Gardi 
ner's  diagnosis,  "broken  square  off;  fresh  break 
too.  That's  strange!  How  could  that  get 
broken?" 

"Couldn't  say,  sir,"  replied  Simmins,  meeting 
the  combined  shock  of  both  men's  stares.  He 
meant  he  wouldn't  say. 

"Well,"  said  Grimstead  reluctantly.  "It  will 
take  all  night  to  get  anywhere  at  all  in  these  dark 
woods — if  he  didn't  get  lost  or  break  a  leg." 

The  faintest  gleam  crossed  Simmins'  eyes. 
Burton,  leaning  back  idly,  apparently  as  remote 
as  the  pyramids,  saw  it. 

"I  have  a  flash  of  my  own  in  my  bag,"  she 
announced. 

Simmins  flickered  a  reproachful  eye  at  her. 
Since  the  debacle  of  the  front  door  episode  a 
certain  human  relationship  had  existed  between 
these  two.  But  he  was  to  suffer  for  his  sex. 

"I  shall  do  my  best,  sir,"  said  he  meekly,  for 
Simmins,  "but  it  is  only  fair  to  say,  sir,  that  the 
boots  I  am  wearing,  being  purchased  afar  from 
my  customary  tradesman,  and  being  of  inferior 
fit  as  well  as  inferior  workmanship  and  material, 
have  had  for  some  days  the  effect,  sir — " 

"God  bless  my  soul,  what  are  you  driving  at!" 
cried  Grimstead. 

"Simmins  is  funking  it,"  interposed  Burton 
coolly.  "He's  afraid  a  bear  or  a  panther  or  a 


ON    TIPTOE  29 

wolf  will  jump  out  from  a  dark  corner  just  as 
he  rounds  a  bend  in  the  road,  and  with  one  spring 
will  fasten  its  fangs  in  the  back  of  his  neck." 

"Nonsense!"  exploded  Grimstead. 

"Quite  so,  sir,"  supplemented  Simmins,  but 
without  conviction. 

"Or  that  it  will  drop  out  of  the  branches  of  a 
tree  over  his  head,  swoosh!" 

"Wolves  do  not  climb  trees,  miss,"  put  in  Sim 
mins  respectfully,  hoping  to  change  the  discus 
sion.  This  was  exactly  what  he  was  afraid  of, 
however. 

"There's  not  one  earthly  thing  in  these  woods 
that  would  hurt  anybody,"  stated  Grimstead  de 
cidedly,  "and  we've  wasted  time  enough.  If 
you'll  get  Simmins  your  flash,  my  dear,  he'll  be 
getting  along." 

Ignoring  Simmins'  question  as  to  which  bag 
she  wanted,  Burton  arose  and  went  to  the 
car. 

"Here  it  is,  Simmins,"  she  said,  after  a  mo 
ment's  fumbling.  "They  say  wild  animals  are 
afraid  of  light,  so  I  fancy  you'll  be  perfectly 
safe;  unless  of  course  the  battery  gives  out.  I 
hardly  know  what  to  advise  then.  They  say  if 
you  can  lie  perfectly  still,  so  the  beast  thinks 
you  are  dead,  he  won't  touch  you.  You  might 
try  that." 

Simmins  made  no  reply  as  he  took  the  torch: 


30  ON    TIPTOE 

but  he  did  not  attempt  to  veil  the  hurt  reproach 
in  his  eyes.  Slowly  he  walked  to  the  damp  soft 
road,  down  which  he  slowly  disappeared ;  a  Lilli 
putian  figure  in  the  dusk  of  the  gigantic  trees. 


CHAPTER  IV 

BEFORE  we  follow  Miss  Burton  back  to  her 
fireside  let  us  accompany  for  a  short  dis 
tance  the  excellent  but  reluctant  Simmins.  His 
way  almost  immediately  took  him  out  of  sight  of 
the  firelight.  The  various  and  vague  night  influ 
ences  that  firelight  always  holds  at  bay  immedi 
ately  gathered  close  about  and  jeered  him. 
They  informed  Simmins  inaudibly  but  most 
plainly  that  he  was  nothing  but  an  insignificant 
little  flunkey;  that  he  was  a  frivolous  unworthy 
character;  that  his  general  all  around  uselessness 
was  but  poorly  compensated  by  a  light-minded 
ness  which  he  had  mistakenly  labelled  cheer-o. 
Having  impressed  these,  and  various  other  sim 
ilarly  depressing  truths  on  him ;  and  having  filled 
his  soul  to  overflowing  with  the  awe,  the  portent, 
the  whelming  aloofness  of  twilight  forest,  they 
sprung  a  screech  owl  on  him. 

The  screech  owl  is  one  of  the  smallest  of  the 
rapt  ores,  or  birds  of  prey.  It  lives  on  little 
mice  and  buggums  of  convivial  night-prowling  ^ 
habits;  and  its  capacity  for  harming  anything 
larger  than  a  canary  bird  is  extremely  doubtful. 
But  it  does  not  sound  that  way.  Perched  aloft 

31 


32  ON    TIPTOE 

in  comfortable  seclusion  it  utters  the  shrieks, 
screams,  whoops  and  obscene  chucklings  of  a 
thousand  devils,  and  that  in  a  voice  so  powerful 
that  naturalists  have  never  determined  why  the 
recoil  does  not  knock  it  off  its  perch.  There 
ought  to  be  an  Indian  legend  to  the  following 
effect:  In  the  Beginning  of  Creation  the  God 
of  Four-footed  Creatures  and  the  God  of  Feath 
ered  Creatures  had  a  contest  to  see  which  could 
make  the  worst  sounding  product.  The  legend 
should  then  run  four  pages  full  of  words  like 
matchagewiss  in  italics ;  the  gist  of  which  would 
be  that  the  God  of  Four-footed  Creatures  made 
the  coyote  and  set  him  on  a  hill ;  and  as  every  one 
knows  one  coyote  is  some  diabolical  singer !  But 
the  God  of  Feathered  Creatures  spit  on  his  hands 
and  made  a  screech  owl  and  stuck  him  in  a  tree; 
and  he  had  the  other  God  skinned  a  mile. 

Simmins  had  never  heard  a  screech  owl. 
Neither  had  he  ever  heard  a  bear,  a  wolf,  a  pan 
ther,  a  hippogriff,  a  pterodactyl  or  a  bander- 
snatch.  His  worst  fears  were  realised.  Panic- 
stricken  he  stood  stark  still  and  cast  the  beams 
of  his  searchlight  all  about  him.  They  were 
most  unsatisfactory,  for  they  made  a  faint  hol 
low  blub  in  the  obscurity  directly  in  front,  and 
left  a  pressing  blackness  all  around.  Sim 
mins  hesitated.  The  next  instant  he  was  on  his 
knees  alongside  the  road  hastily  gathering  the 


ON    TIPTOE  33 

materials  for  a  fire.  He  was  no  Boy  Scout  and 
it  took  him  half  a  box  of  matches  to  get  going; 
but  at  last  the  cheerful  friendly  little  blaze  licked 
up  through  the  fuel.  Simmins  sat  in  front  of 
it,  all  thought  of  his  duty  shamelessly  abandoned. 
The  screech  owl,  intrigued  by  the  firelight,  came 
over  to  a  nearer  tree.  It  had  eaten  a  shrew  and 
so  had  no  pressing  business  on  hand.  At  occa 
sional  intervals  it  made  conversational  reports 
of  its  operations  to  another  screech  owl,  a  friend, 
now  cruising  on  a  ridge  about  three  miles  dis 
tant.  Whenever  this  happened  Simmins  sprang 
hastily  from  his  doze  and  piled  on  more  fuel. 


CHAPTER  V 

BURTON  returned  to  the  fireside  carrying  a 
small  covered  basket.  She  sat  down  and 
removed  the  contents. 

I  have  been  afraid  to  tell  you  of  this  basket 
before,  and  of  the  fifth  member  of  the  party, 
because  I  did  not  want  to  prejudice  you  against 
my  heroine.  She  is  a  good  heroine,  really;  good 
looking,  good  disposition  at  bottom,  bright, 
clever,  lots  of  feminine  lure,  and  a  sense  of  hu 
mor — top  hole  in  every  respect.  I  know  you'll 
like  her  when  you  know  her.  But  she  is  young, 
and  she's  been  raised  a  pet,  and  she  has  a  few 
silly  little  foibles  that  go  with  her  age  and  her 
station  in  life.  Those  are  the  things  people  out 
grow  and  laugh  about  later.  The  thing  she  took 
out  of  the  basket  was  a  Pomeranian  dog,  half 
size  even  for  that  breed,  and  it  was  named 
Punketty-Snivvles.  There  you  have  it! 

Punketty-Snivvles  was  an  arrant  and  arrogant 
snob,  vain  as  a  peacock,  addicted  to  almost  in 
cessant  shrill  noise,  impudent  to  his  largers  and 
scornful  of  his  betters.  He  was  a  mamma's 
darling,  pink-ribbon  creature,  with  an  aggres- 

34 


ON    TIPTOE  35 

sively  demanding  disposition.  Every  creature, 
we  are  told,  has  its  mission  in  life.  Punketty- 
Snivvles'  mission  was  in  all  probability  the 
humbling  of  self -righteousness.  Many  a  Chris 
tian  minister  who  had  put  away  all  earthly  pas 
sions;  many  a  New-Thoughter  who  had  long 
since  got  over  thinking  of  anything  more  de 
tailed  than  the  All;  many  a  disciple  of  Sweet 
ness  and  Light  as  applied  to  Hindu  Health  who 
habitually  contemplated  only  Buddha's  navel,  or 
something  like  that,  was  brought  rudely  to  a 
vulgar  carnal  desire  to  wring  Punketty-Sniwles' 
neck!  From  which  common  human  meeting 
ground,  I  do  not  doubt,  they  worked  slowly 
back  to  Better  Things. 

Punketty-Snivvles,  released  from  his  basket, 
promptly  stood  on  his  hind  legs  and  walked, 
strutted,  back  and  forth  to  be  admired.  The 
men  surveyed  the  creature  in  silent  disgust. 
Burton  adoringly  fed  it  slices  of  chicken  she  had 
saved  out  for  the  purpose.  Punketty-Sniwles 
showed  its  appreciation  by  uttering  staccato  and 
incessant  barks.  This  he  kept  up  just  long 
enough  to  drive  the  great  peaceful  gods  of  the 
forest  evening  to  distant  ridges;  and  then  he 
curled  up  in  a  small  fluffy  ball  next  the  fire  and 
went  to  sleep. 

It  took  the  great  peaceful  gods  some  little  time 
to  make  up  their  minds  to  come  back;  but  at 


36  ON    TIPTOE 

length  they  ventured,  and  night  once  more 
brooded  over  the  forest. 

Burton  reclined  on  the  cushions,  looking 
straight  up,  still  within  her  inscrutable  silence. 
Gardiner  was  clever  enough  to  realise  that  this 
was  the  time  for  effacement.  Grimstead  dozed. 
Directly  overhead  was  a  little  patch  of  the  sky 
with  stars.  Toward  it  reached  the  sparks  from 
the  fire;  at  first  shooting  up  straight  and  flam 
ing;  then  hesitating,  eddying,  dulling;  finally 
making  a  last  upward  dart  to  die  in  the  black 
ness.  They  started  out  a  hundred,  a  thousand 
strong;  there  ended  but  two  or  three;  yet  ever 
new  hundreds,  new  thousands  sprang  up  joy 
ously  to  replenish  the  ascending  column  and  as 
soon  to  die.  Around,  the  trees  watched  in  mute 
solemnity;  above,  the  remote  stars  hung  in  the 
awful  void.  Burton's  eyes  widened  and  the 
tight  drawn  bands  of  convention  and  youth  loos 
ened;  so  that  unknown  to  her  the  hidden  spirit 
within  her  reached  out  into  its  own  element,  and 
bathed  in  it  and  was  glad. 

But  now  the  peace  of  the  night  was  broken 
by  the  approach  of  something  metallic  and  loose. 
Three  of  the  watchers  sat  up.  Punketty- 
Sniwles  did  not  stir.  The  thing  coming  was 
evidently  a  car:  and  the  tinny  rattle  betrayed 
its  plebeian  origin.  Punketty-Snivvles  paid  lit 
tle  attention  to  anything  beneath  the  rank  of 


ON    TIPTOE  37 

a  Rolls-Royce  or  a  Pierce- Arrow.     But  some 
of  his  humans  were  not  so  certain. 

"Can't  hear  any  engine,"  puzzled  Gardiner; 
"must  be  horse  drawn — a  wagon  load  of  milk 


cans." 


"Coasting,"  suggested  Grimstead. 

"Up  hill  from  that  direction,"  pointed  out 
Gardiner. 

But  the  doubt  was  almost  immediately  re 
solved  by  the  dancing  glare  of  headlights  through 
the  trees,  and  an  instant  later  a  small  light  car 
swerved  off  the  road  and  came  to  a  stop.  Enter 
the  Bright-Shining  Hero! 

The  thing  he  rode  was  one  of  those  non 
descript  home-made  things  of  galvanised  iron  by 
which  the  youthful  attempt  in  vain  to  disguise 
and  render  sportful  a  certain  otherwise  jokeful 
brand  of  inexpensive  car.  The  hood  was  wide 
arched  and  continued  back  to  a  cowl  that  in  its 
turn  so  nearly  enveloped  the  single  seat  as  to 
resemble  a  cockpit.  The  rear  ran  out  into  a 
peak,  like  a  cigar,  so  that  the  terrific  speed 
would  not  create  a  dangerous  vacuum.  For  an 
analogous  reason  the  superfluity  of  fenders  and 
running  board  had  been  stripped  off.  If  one 
wanted  to  board  this  clipper,  he  had  to  swing 
himself  over  a  high  gunwale,  for  there  were  no 
doors.  At  this  moment  the  craft  was  in  heavy 
cruising  order,  for  the  long,  lean  racing  lines 


38  ON    TIPTOE 

were  disfigured  by  a  huge  canvas-covered  pack, 
lashed  on  her  stern.  One  could  imagine,  how 
ever,  that  should  occasion  arise,  a  few  deft 
slashes  of  a  keen-edged  knife  would  jettison  all 
this  heavy  freight,  leaving  her  stripped  for  ac 
tion,  prepared  to  leap  forward  to  her  full  thirty- 
five  miles  per  hour  in  pursuit  of  derring-do!  It 
is  to  be  regretted  that  long  absence  from  her 
dry  dock  had  apparently  loosened  enough  of  her 
rivets  so  that  temporarily  her  disguise  was  ren 
dered  nought  by  a  rattle  as  characteristic  as  the 
radiator  she  had  borne  from  the  factory. 

The  occupants  of  this  craft  were  three.  The 
young  man  at  the  wheel,  as  he  showed  in  the 
firelight,  was  a  pleasant-faced  youth,  with  short, 
light  hair,  and  what  had  been  a  fair  complexion 
dark-reddened  by  much  exposure.  He  had  a 
pair  of  laughing  eyes  and  a  fine  flash  of  teeth 
in  his  contagious  grin.  Behind  him,  seated  atop 
the  canvas-covered  pack,  was  an  Irish  terrier 
dog,  balancing  himself  in  a  difficult  position  with 
the  nonchalance  of  expert  habit.  The  third  oc 
cupant  was  Simmins. 

Before  his  employers  could  recover  from  their 
astonishment  at  his  reappearance,  Simmins 
leaped  nimbly  from  the  cockpit. 

"This  gentleman  picked  me  up,  sir,"  said  he 
glibly,  "and  I  conceived  as  how  it  would  be  more 
expeditious,  sir,  to  come  back  with  him." 


ON    TIPTOE  39 

"More  expeditious!  He's  going  in  the  other 
direction!"  said  Grimstead. 

Simmins'  agile  mind  saw  the  point,  and  real 
ised  that  if  this  young  man  were  supposed  to 
have  offered  his  services  in  going  for  help,  there 
would  have  been  no  earthly  object  in  returning 
to  the  fire.  He  would  simply  have  turned 
around  and  headed  for  Tecolote.  As  a  matter 
of  fact  it  was  only  when  the  little  car  came  to  a 
stop  that  Simmins  awoke  to  the  fact  that  he  had 
to  say  anything  at  all.  The  terror  of  that  wolf- 
cougar  -  bear- pterodactyl- bandersnatch- screech- 
owl  combination  had  completely  benumbed  his 
faculties.  When  the  young  man  had  pulled  up 
and  said  "Hop  aboard,"  he  had  hopped  aboard, 
utterly  unaware  even  that  he  had  said  that  yes, 
he  was  going  that  way. 

"Yes,  sir;  certainly,  sir,"  he  answered  Mr. 
Grimstead's  remark.  "But,  sir,  although  our 
tank  is  ruined,  sir,  it  occurred  to  me  that  by  filling 
the  vacuum  tank  by  hand  every  few  miles  we 
would  be  able  to  work  our  car  to  Tecolote,  sir, 
in  not  over  two  hours.  The  vacuum  tank  holds 
approximately  a  quart,  which  should  take  us  two 
and  a  half  miles.  Thus  by  filling  the  tank  nine 
times  wre  should  arrive.  It  might  be  a  little 
slow,  sir,  to  be  sure;  but  we  should  be  in  within 
two  hours,  and  that  would  be  much  more  expe 
ditious.  We  would  have  to  borrow  from  this 


40  ON    TIPTOE 

gentleman  only  about  two  and  a  half  gallons  of 
gasoline.  I  hope  I  have  done  right,  sir,"  ended 
Simmins  virtuously. 

He  managed  by  his  manner  to  convey  the  im 
pression  that  all  those  details  had  been  consid 
ered  and  discussed  with  his  new  companion.  As 
a  matter  of  fact  Simmins  was  spinning  it  out 
as  he  went  along.  The  chief  idea  was  to  bring 
up  fresh  and  interesting  issues  so  that  the  fact 
that  he  had  been  found  huddling  over  a  fire  in 
stead  of  tramping  manfully  along  the  road  to 
Tecolote  should  become  too  trivial  to  mention. 
Simmins  was  the  best  two-handed  liar  in  Amer 
ica  because  he  could  hit  from  any  position  at  any 
time.  If  he  had  been  awakened  from  a  sound 
sleep  and  confronted  with  forgotten  evidence  he 
would  without  a  pause  have  started  off  in  an 
explanation  so  plausible,  connected  and  self-evi 
dent  that  the  end  would  have  been  an  abject 
apology  for  disturbing  his  rest.  Of  course  there 
is  nothing  immoral  about  lying  like  that :  moral 
ity  has  nothing  to  do  with  great  Art.  Naturally, 
then,  Simmins  realised  perfectly  there  was  one 
weak  point  in  his  discourse,  and  he  had  his  re 
inforcements  ready  if  needed;  but  that  contin 
gency  seemed  unlikely. 

"Quite  right,  Simmins;  quite  right,"  Grim- 
stead  was  saying. 


ON    TIPTOE  41 

But  Miss  Burton  stirred;  and  Simmins'  mus 
cles  tightened. 

"I  suppose  this  gentleman  has  that  much  gas 
oline  to  spare,"  she  threw  in,  apparently  idly. 

That  was  the  weak  point.  Simmins,  naturally, 
did  not  know. 

"He  offered  his  assistance,  Miss,"  he  replied 
stiffly.  After  all  you  had  to  have  some  luck; 
and  by  the  size  of  his  camp  pack  he  must  be  on 
an  extended  cruise. 

During  this  short  colloquy  the  young  man  had 
sat  at  the  wheel,  his  twinkling  eyes  leisurely  ap 
praising  the  party.  Grimstead  approached. 

"It  is  very  good  of  you  to  help  us,"  said  he 
politely. 

A  fleeting  expression  of  puzzlement  swept  the 
newcomer's  brow;  but  he  answered  with  equal 
courtesy. 

"Glad  to  be  of  any  assistance." 

And  waited. 

Burton  caught  the  puzzlement;  and  instantly 
looked  toward  Simmins  in  time  to  capture  the 
tail  end  of  entreaty  directed  toward  the  youth. 

"Simmins,"  said  Grimstead,  "have  we  suffi 
cient  receptacles?" 

"I'm  afraid  not,  sir.  The  canvas  bucket  would 
hardly  do." 

"Perhaps,"  Grimstead  addressed  the  young 
man,  "you  could  also  let  us  have  a  utensil?" 


42  ON    TIPTOE 

"What  sort  of  a  utensil?"  enquired  the  stran 
ger.  He  was  enjoying  himself;  but  he  could 
not  yet  make  out  the  situation.  His  roving  eye 
caught  a  look  in  Simmins'  that  plainly  begged 
circumspection,  and  a  flash  of  amusement  from 
the  pretty  girl  in  the  flowered  toque. 

"A  pail  would  do,  I  should  think,"  Grimstead 
was  answering  him,  "something  that  would  hold 
about  two  and  a  half  or  three  gallons." 

"All  right,  I  have  such  a  pail.  You  can  have 
it,"  and  waited  again. 

"And  perhaps  a  funnel,  if  it  would  be  possible," 
put  in  Simmins  hastily.  "The  vacuum  tank 
would  be  very  hard  to  fill  without  a  funnel." 

The  young  man  considered  this  statement  for 
some  moments. 

"Is  your  gas  tank  badly  damaged?"  he  asked 
at  length. 

Simmins'  heart  lifted  up  in  an  inner  paean 
of  joy.  This  was  an  intelligent  young  man  who 
could  draw  an  intelligent  inference.  Saved 
again!  The  yardarm  would  swing  empty  at 
dawn! 

Grimstead  detailed  the  accident.  The  young 
man  nodded  comprehension. 

"I  see.  It's  too  bad,  but  I  have  no  gas,"  he 
announced  calmly. 

"I  thought,  sir,"  struck  in  Simmins  eagerly, 
"that  the  young  man  would  be  willing  to  loan 


ON    TIPTOE  43 

it  to  us  and  might  wait  here,  as  he  has  camp 
equipment,  until  we  could  send  him  out  a  supply 
from  Tecolote ;  especially,  sir,  on  account  of  get 
ting  Miss  Burton  in  out  of  the  night  air."  Con 
found  the  fellow:  what  did  he  mean,  taking 
chances  away  off  here  in  the  wilderness  without 
a  reserve  supply  of  fuel. 

"Your  solicitude  for  me  is  very  thoughtful," 
put  in  Burton  sweetly.  "Thank  you,  Simmins." 

"I'd  gladly  let  you  have  it,  of  course,"  said 
the  young  man,  "if  I  had  it;  but  I  haven't." 

"But  you  must  have  some!"  cried  Simmins, 
routed  from  his  grand  manner. 

"Not  a  single  drop,"  smiled  the  newcomer. 

"Well,  distillate,  alcohol,  kerosene,  whatever  it 
is,"  said  Grimstead  a  little  impatiently.  "My 
car  will  run  on  them  at  a  pinch." 

"Not  a  single  drop,"  repeated  the  man;  "I  run 
on — well,  electricity." 

"Electricity!"  cried  Grimstead  and  Gardiner 
in  unison.  "Where  do  you — " 

But  the  technical  discussion  was  sidetracked. 
The  Irish  terrier,  who  had  been  sitting  atop  the 
pack,  watching  everything  with  bright  eyes,  sud 
denly  saw  something  that  interested  him.  He 
riveted  his  gaze  on  the  ball  of  long  black  hair 
at  Burton's  feet.  The  thing  looked  like  one  of 
these  muffs  lady  Humans  liked  to  carry ;  but  the 
Irishman  thought  it  had  stirred.  After  a  mo- 


44  ON    TIPTOE 

merit  he  was  sure  of  it.    With  instantaneous  de 
cision  he  went  into  action. 

So  quick  and  unexpected  were  his  movements 
that  he  had  covered  the  distance  between  himself 
and  Punketty-Sniwles,  had  seized  that  person 
age,  and  was  halfway  back  to  his  master  before 
the  bystanders  realised  what  was  taking  place. 

"Good  heavens!9'  cried  Burton.  "Call  off 
your  dog!  He'll  kiU  him!" 

Grimstead  and  Gardiner  scrambled  to  their 
feet.  Simmins  stooped  and  picked  up  a  handy 
club.  But  the  young  man  was  laughing. 

"Stand  still!  Don't  worry!"  he  commanded. 
"He  won't  hurt  him!"  And  somehow  they  be 
lieved,  and  stood  still.  After  a  moment  Grim- 
stead  and  Gardiner  too  began  to  laugh;  and  even 
Simmins  permitted  himself  a  discreet  smile. 

The  Irish  terrier  was  retrieving  Punketty- 
Sniwles,  carefully,  just  as  a  hunting  dog  re 
trieves  a  bird.  He  had  the  unfortunate  person 
age  very  completely  in  his  mouth  so  that  one 
end  stuck  out  one  side  and  the  other  end  out 
the  other  side.  His  head  was  high,  his  step  was 
proud,  and  his  eye  was  the  eye  of  one  who  does 
conscientiously  a  rather  unpleasant  duty.  For 
Punketty-Sniwles  was  having  WTiggling  hys 
terics  and  screaming  billingsgate  in  no  uncertain 
tones. 

"Bring  it  here,  Rapscallion,"  the  young  man 


ON    TIPTOE  45 

commanded,  at  the  same  time  descending  from 
the  car. 

The  terrier  deposited  his  burden  in  his  mas 
ter's  hand  and  drew  back,  spitting  and  sneezing 
in  his  relief  at  getting  rid  of  so  much  long  hair. 

"Come  here,  you  old  idiot,"  ordered  his  mas 
ter.  "This  is  a  dog.  I  know  it  doesn't  look  it; 
but  smell  of  it.  You  see,"  he  explained,  looking 
up,  "I  am  naturally  of  a  lazy  but  curious  dispo 
sition,  so  I  have  trained  Rapscallion  to  bring  me 
in  anything  strange  or  queer  he  runs  across  in 
the  woods  as  long  as  it  isn't  skunks.  But  he 
ought  to  know  a  dog  when  he  smells  it!" 

Punketty-Snivvles  had  continued  his  screams. 

"Oh,  shut  up!"  the  young  man  addressed  him 
unceremoniously.  "You're  not  hurt  a  hair;"  and 
then,  as  Punketty-Snivvles  continued  his  ravings, 
he  cuffed  the  atom  smartly.  Simmins  gasped 
audibly.  Never  before  had  Punketty-Snivvles 
felt  the  hand  of  authority.  He  glanced  at  Miss 
Burton  to  see  how  she  was  going  to  take  this 
outrage.  She  was  staring  at  the  young  man  with 
a  very  queer  look  in  her  face.  But  Punketty- 
Snivvles  did  shut  up. 

"If  you  have  quite  finished  punishing  my  dog, 
will  you  kindly  return  me  my  property?"  she 
asked  coldly,  after  a  moment. 

"Why,  certainly,"  acquiesced  the  young  man, 
his  features  lighting  up  with  an  engaging  smile, 


46  ON    TIPTOE 

and  stepping  forward  with  the  atom  of  fur  out 
stretched,  "Do  you  really  care  for  this?" 

And  then  a  queer  thing  happened.  Burton 
opened  her  mouth,  intending  to  squelch  this  up 
start  in  one  of  a  half  dozen  ways,  carefully 
selected  by  an  unerring  feminine  instinct.  But 
as  she  looked  up  straight  into  his  carelessly  laugh 
ing  eyes  something  ingenuously  expectant  in  the 
depths  of  them  caused  her  to  say,  with  consider 
able  emphasis,  not  to  say  passion: 

"No,  I  hate  and  despise  it!" 

"I  thought  you  would,"  responded  the  young 
man  in  sympathetic  tones.  "Well,  great  is  the 
power  of  fashion.  Here,  Simmins,"  he  ordered, 
"take  this  nuisance  away  somewhere.  You  ought 
to  get  you  a  real  dog.  Here,  Rapscallion :  you've 
got  to  apologise  to  the  lady.  First  show  her  your 
paws  are  clean." 

The  solemn,  fuzzy  Irishman  came  forward 
gravely,  sat  erect,  and  extended  his  forelegs 
stiffly  straight  up  either  side  his  head. 

"She's  a  pretty  lady,"  stated  the  newcomer 
brazenly,  "smile  at  her." 

The  dog  wrinkled  his  upper  lips  back  from 
his  teeth  in  a  most  engaging  grin. 

"Now  speak  to  her  in  apology,"  with  a  slight 
emphasis  on  the  word  "speak." 

"Now  see  if  she'll  forgive  you  and  shake 
hands." 


ON    TIPTOE  47 

Rapscallion  extended  his  right  paw,  keeping 
the  other  still  rigidly  elevated.  Nobody  could 
have  resisted  him.  Burton  did  not. 

"You  darling!"  she  cried,  dropping  on  her 
knees  before  him.  The  terrier  rolled  his  wistful 
brown  eyes  toward  his  master. 

"All  right,  Rap,"  said  the  latter. 

The  terrier  came  down  to  all  fours  and  sub 
mitted  in  dignified  manner  to  the  blandishments 
of  the  pretty  lady. 

"I  could  give  you  the  address  of  the  man  who 
breeds  'em,"  suggested  the  newcomer. 

"Oh,  would  you?"  cried  Burton,  looking  up. 


CHAPTER  VI 

AT  this  moment  Grimstead's  booming  tones 
broke  in. 

"Young  man,"  said  he,  "I  do  not  know  who 
you  are,  nor  how  you  do  it;  but  if  you  have 
made  a  permanent  cure  you  can  name  your  own 
fee.  IVe  felt  at  times  that  no  price  was  too 
high  to  pay  for  riddance  from  that  damn  yap 
ping—" 

But  Burton  had  no  intimation  of  being  put 
upon.  She  resumed  her  egg-shaped  aura  and 
from  it  cast  upon  her  parent  One  Look. 

"But  it's  getting  later  every  minute,"  put  in 
the  latter  hastily.  "We'd  better  get  down  to 
business.  You  said,  I  believe,  you  ran  on  elec 
tricity?  Hadn't  any  gas?" 

"That's  right,"  smiled  the  young  man. 

"Well,  it's  an  imposition,  I  know;  but  you 
see  how  we  are  situated.  Could  you  drive  back 
to  Tecolote  and  get  us  help?"  Grimstead  hesi 
tated,  casting  a  glance  first  at  the  young  man, 
then  at  his  car.  "Of  course  I'd — that  is,  we'd  fix 
it  up—" 

"Surely;  I'll  do  anything  I  can,"  agreed  the 
young  man  heartily.  "My  name  is  Davenport." 

48 


ON    TIPTOE  49 

"Grimstead  is  mine.  That's  fine!  Get  them 
to  send  out  a  touring  car  to-night ;  and  then  to 
morrow  we  can  make  arrangements  for  repairs." 

But  Davenport  shook  his  head  doubtfully. 

"Not  to-night,"  he  decided.    "To-morrow." 

Grimstead  flushed. 

"It  would  be  rather  a  hardship  on  my  daugh 
ter — "  he  began  stiffly,  "and  of  course  we  should 
expect  you  to  consider  yourself  as  our  guest  at 
Tecolote— " 

Davenport  laughed  aloud. 

"Bless  you:  I  don't  mind  the  being  out  late! 
That's  an  old  trick  of  mine.  But  it's  going  to 
rain;  and  it's  going  to  rain  hard.  I  probably 
wouldn't  make  it,  and  you'd  all  be  very  wet  and 
uncomfortable." 

"Rain!"  cried  Grimstead,  astounded. 

"Rain!"  cried  Gardiner  contemptuously. 

"Rain!"  echoed  Burton  incredulously. 

"The  wind's  due  north,  and  has  been  all  day/' 
Grimstead  pointed  out,  "and,  besides,  it's  the  dry 


season." 


"I  saw  the  weather  map  this  morning. 
There's  no  low  area  within  two  thousand  miles. 
The  barometer  is  up,"  said  Gardiner. 

"Look  at  the  stars!  It's  a  heavenly  night," 
contributed  Burton. 

"Apparently  that  is  so,"  smiled  Davenport. 
"Nevertheless  we  are  in  for  a  storm,  and  a  very 


50  ON    TIPTOE 

heavy  one.  I  think  it  would  be  better  for  me 
to  wait  here  until  morning  and  help  make  you 
comfortable.  I  have  a  camp  outfit;  and  plenty 
of  supplies." 

"Of  course  you  must  suit  yourself,"  said  Grim- 
stead  coldly.  There  was  no  doubt  in  his  mind 
that  this  young  man  much  preferred  the  com 
pany  of  a  pretty  girl  by  a  fire,  not  to  speak  of 
a  good  night's  sleep,  to  slamming  about  bad 
mountain  roads  in  the  dark. 

"I  suppose,"  said  Gardiner  sarcastically,  "that 
you  can  tell  us  just  when  it's  going  to  start  to 
rain  and  how  many  inches  we  will  have." 

"I  might,"  replied  Davenport  unexpectedly. 
"Wait  a  minute." 

He  stood  upright  and  stared  off  into  space. 
The  bright  intelligence  of  his  eyes  drained  slowly 
away,  leaving  them  glinting  only  with  surface 
reflections  of  the  fire,  as  though  they  had  been 
made  of  glass.  The  others  watched  him,  puzzled, 
and  a  little  impressed  with  this  evidence  of  what 
seemed  extreme  inner  concentration.  He  stood 
thus  for  perhaps  half  a  minute;  then  slowly  his 
eyes  reconcentrated. 

"It  will  begin  to  rain  about  one  or  one-thirty," 
he  stated  quietly,  "and  will  continue  for  eight 
hours  and  twenty  minutes — or  five  minutes  either 
way.  I  could  not  tell  you  exactly  how  many 


ON    TIPTOE  51 

inches  will  fall;  but  it  will  be  a  very  heavy  and 
continuous  downpour  with  high  wind — a  tempest. 
On  a  guess  for  that  sort  of  a  storm,  lasting  that 
long,  five  inches." 

"Five  inches!  A  cloudburst!"  Gardiner 
snorted. 

"Yes,  this  is  a  bad  storm,"  agreed  Davenport 
seriously.  "Another  thing:  that  tree  just  beyond 
your  car,  the  one  near  the  edge  of  the  road,  will 
be  blown  down,  so  we'd  better  move  the  car,  and 
be  careful  where  we  pitch  camp." 

Gardiner  muttered  contemptuously  to  himself. 
Grimstead  merely  smiled  a  sardonic  smile.  He 
was  by  now  quite  accustomed  to  Burton's  effect 
on  young  men.  They  always  showed  off  in  one 
way  or  another.  This  was  a  new  way  to  show 
off;  but  anything  to  attract  her  attention.  He 
had  it  now. 

"How  do  you  claim  to  know  these  things  so 
accurately?"  demanded  Burton  bluntly. 

"Suppose  we  wait  until  morning  and  see  if 
I  do  know  them,"  smiled  Davenport. 

"Yes,  that's  a  good  idea,"  approved  Grimstead 
drily.  "And  if  we  really  are  to  stay  here  all 
night,  suppose  we  see  what  we  can  do  toward 
making  ourselves  comfortable." 

He  glanced  aloft  at  the  still,  sweet  night  and 
smiled  under  his  moustache. 


52  ON    TIPTOE 

Davenport  began  to  unlash  the  pack  on  his 
little  car.  Simmins  stepped  forward  to  help 
him. 

"That's  all  right,  my  merry  man,"  said  Dav 
enport,  "but  I  can  handle  this.  Suppose  you 
rustle  out  what  you've  got  in  the  way  of  rugs, 
cushions  and  stuff  of  that  sort.  We'll  just  pool 
our  resources.  Here,"  he  summoned  Gardiner, 
"catch  hold  and  help  spread  this  out." 

Gardiner  hesitated,  then  obeyed.  In  a  few 
moments  Davenport  was  surveying  the  pile  of 
effects  with  a  speculative  eye.  There  proved 
to  be  a  small  tent  made  of  some  light  paraffined 
material ;  a  heavy  canvas  tarpaulin  that  had  cov 
ered  the  whole;  two  pair  of  camp  blankets;  a 
quilted  sort  of  bag  affair  that  could  be  used 
either  as  a  mattress  or  as  a  sleeping  bag  in  very 
cold  weather;  three  carriage  rugs;  and  a  folding 
cot.  To  these,  at  Davenport's  command,  were 
added  four  long  heavy  overcoats. 

"We'll  make  out,"  he  decided.  "Miss  Grim- 
stead  gets  the  tent,  of  course;  and  we'd  better 
put  that  up  first.  It's  a  simple  affair.  You 
put  it  up,  Brother  Simmins.  Ever  put  up  a  tent 
before?" 

"I  fought  in  the  Boer  War,  sir,"  said  Simmins 
unexpectedly.  After  the  brief  glow  of  glory 
this  announcement  evoked,  Simmins  was  a  little 
sorry  he  had  made  it,  for  it  committed  him  irrev- 


ON    TIPTOE  53 

ocably  to  an  unassisted  struggle.    He  lifted  the 
mess  of  material  and  little  meaningless  ropes. 

"Where  shall  I— ah— pitch  it,  sir?"  he  en 
quired.  That  word  pitch  was  a  good  thought; 
sounded  professional. 

"Get  just  as  far  down  the  meadow  as  you 
possibly  can,"  directed  Davenport,  "but  stay  out 
in  the  open.  Don't  get  into  the  woods.  Better 
build  a  fire  to  give  yourself  light." 

"But  why  so  far  away?"  protested  Grimstead. 
"I  should  prefer  to  have  my  daughter  a  little 
nearer." 

"Oh,  of  course  we'll  move  down  there  too," 
said  Davenport  carelessly,  rummaging  in  the 
torpedo  stern  of  the  little  car.  "Here's  a  hatchet, 
Simmins,  and  a  few  iron  pegs;  but  cut  some 
good  long  stakes  for  the  corners.  These  iron 
things  are  too  short." 

"But  why  not  stay  here  where  all  our  things 
are?"  persisted  Grimstead. 

"Not  safe,"  mumbled  Davenport,  his  head  in 
the  car.  "That  one  tree  is  the  only  one  that 
will  fall;  but  a  fellow  can't  guess  at  heavy  limbs 
that  might  get  broken  loose.  The  wind  will  come 
from  the  sou'west,  and  that  will  make  it  blow 
lengthwise  down  the  meadow.  If  we  go  to  the 
lower  end  we'll  not  get  hit  with  falling  branches, 
at  least." 

Grimstead  rolled  his  eyes  at  Gardiner  with 


54  ON    TIPTOE 

a  comical  grin.  The  Pirate  Chief  was  in  reality 
a  soft  old  thing  when  it  came  to  anything  that 
had  to  do  with  his  only  che-ild.  This  young 
man  was  carrying  his  bluff  through,  anyhow; 
and  Grimstead  liked  a  good  consistent  sport. 
But  Gardiner  had  other  ideas. 

"He's  crazy  as  a  loon,"  he  said  aside  to  his 
chief. 

"Well,"  pointed  out  the  older  man,  without 
contesting  this  point,  "he's  got  a  tent  and  a  cot 
and  some  warm  bedding;  not  to  speak  of  a  car 
that  runs.  If  he  makes  Burton  comfortable,  I 
don't  care  how  crazy  he  is." 

"Let's  go!"  cried  Davenport  cheerily,  emerg 
ing  from  his  search  with  a  little  shovel,  a  ball 
of  heavy  twine,  and  a  short  axe.  He  gathered 
up  the  tarpaulin  and  the  blankets.  "Bring  along 
the  rest  of  the  plunder.  Give  us  a  lead  with  the 
flashlight,  Miss  Grimstead." 

They  made  their  way  to  the  lower  end  of  the 
meadow,  where  Simmins'  fire  gleamed.  Simmins 
was  apparently  playing  a  game  with  himself  that 
much  resembled  a  gentleman  trying  to  find  the 
right-side-up  of  a  lady's  evening  wrap. 

"This  tent  seems  to  be  of  a  pattern  unknown 
to  me,"  he  announced  accusingly,  "not  at  all 
like  the  British  army  tent,  if  I  may  say  so, 


sir." 


'You  may!"  laughed  Davenport,   "and  you 


ON    TIPTOE  55 

certainly  will  tell  the  truth.  Here,  you  tie  the 
ends  of  these  ropes  to  two  trees — these  will  do 
— and  you  haul  them  up  as  tight  as  you  can. 
That's  the  boy!  Now  you  see  which  are  the 
corners,  don't  you?  Well,  stretch  'em  out  and 
peg  'em  down.  Looks  like  a  tent  now,  doesn't 
it?  Cut  some  stakes,  as  I  told  you,  and  peg  her 
down  some  more." 

He  looked  about  him. 

"I  guess  that  down  log  yonder  is  our  best  bet," 
he  announced.  He  gathered  up  the  tarpaulin 
and  the  hand  axe.  "You  can  come  with  me  and 
throw  me  a  light,"  he  ordered  Burton,  "and  you 
two  men  get  out  and  rustle  dry  bracken  for  a 
bed.  Loads  of  it,  plenty  of  it!  It  packs  down 
more  than  balsam,  remember;  so  get  a  regular 
old  hayload,  if  you  want  to  save  your  bones. 
I'll  rig  a  tent  of  the  tarp." 

"But  I'd  as  soon  sleep  out  as  not,"  objected 
Grimstead. 

"I  tell  you  you'd  get  wet,"  repeated  Daven 
port  with  a  touch  of  impatience. 

Grimstead  threw  up  both  hands  in  mock  de 
spair.  Gardiner  smiled  tolerantly  and  made  a 
circular  gesture  before  his  forehead.  Daven 
port's  back  was  turned;  but  Burton  saw.  Av 
slow  colour  mounted  to  her  cheeks,  and  she 
stepped  forward  promptly  with  the  flashlight. 
The  young  man  began  skilfully  to  construct  a 


56  ON    TIPTOE 

lean-to  shelter,  using  the  down  tree  as  a  back 
wall.  Burton  watched  interestedly,  for  the  af 
fair  was  most  workmanlike  and  ingenious.  She 
exclaimed  with  delight  over  the  simple  expedient 
of  wrapping  small  stones  in  the  corners  of  the 
tarpaulin  in  order  to  have  something  unslippable 
to  which  to  tie  the  guy  lines. 

"I  hope  it  does  rain!"  she  remarked  defiantly 
to  the  world  in  general.  She  sat  on  a  small  hum 
mock  pointing  the  torch.  The  young  man  made 
a  very  attractive  focus  to  the  light.  His  wiry, 
strong  figure  showed  well  beneath  the  loose  out- 
of-door  garments ;  and  his  pleasant  face,  sobered 
by  the  concentration  on  his  task,  was  attractively 
steadfast  and  kindly.  He  flickered  up  at  her 
remark. 

"Oh,  fair  lady,"  he  replied,  "hearing  is  obey 
ing.  It  will." 

She  examined  him  closely  by  the  light  of  her 
torch,  which  left  her  in  darkness,  and  could  not 
make  out  how  much  actual  seriousness  lay  be 
hind  these  confident  predictions.  They  sounded 
like  a  hoax,  an  elaborate  bit  of  foolery;  and  all 
these  tremendous  preparations  could  well  be  a 
mere  follow-up  intended  more  to  puzzle  than  to 
convince.  There  was  a  dancing  devil  in  his  eyes ; 
and  Burton  had  caught  the  instant  dislike  be 
tween  him  and  the  Second  in  Command. 

"He's  trying  to  get  Ross  Gardiner's  goat," 


ON    TIPTOE  57 

she  half  decided.  At  any  rate  it  was  all  for  her 
bright  eyes ;  which  was  satisfactory. 

"So  good  so  far,"  he  cried  with  a  final  blow 
of  his  axe.  "Now  pile  in  the  brakes,  thick  as 
they'll  go,"  he  commanded  the  two  men.  "We'll 
see  how  the  festive  Simmins  progresses." 

The  festive  Simmins  had  progressed  to  the  ex 
tent  that  he  had  driven  in  pegs  or  stakes  through 
all  the  loops  at  the  bottom;  and  had  nearly  pulled 
a  lung  out  in  his  attempt  to  get  the  ridge  rope 
taut  between  the  two  trees.  But  in  spite  of  the 
best  he  could  do  the  tent  hung  as  wrinkled  as 
an  elephant's  pants.  Simmins  awaited  comment 
dejectedly.  To  his  immense  relief  this  compe 
tent  young  man  seemed  pleased. 

"That's  good!  That's  fine !"  he  cried.  "Those 
pegs  will  weather  any  gale;  though  you  might 
lay  some  heavy  stones  against  the  slant  of  the 
corners.  Now  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  tighten 
her  up." 

"Yes,  sir,"  agreed  Simmins  heartily.  That  was 
all!  Just  tighten  her  up!  Sure!  Simmins  felt 
his  abraded  palms  where  the  cruel  rope  had  bit 
ten. 

"Well,  get  at  it,"  cried  Davenport  impatiently 
as  Simmins  did  not  stir.  "Take  your  hatchet 
and  get  at  it!" 

Hatchet!  Simmins'  wits  darted  about  panic- 
stricken.  How  could  you  tighten  a  tent  with  a 


58  ON    TIPTOE 

hatchet?  Or  did  you  run  amuck  and  destroy 
the  obstinate  thing? 

"Yes,  sir;  quite  so,  sir,"  his  outside  was  saying 
mechanically.  He  felt  Burton's  sardonic  eye. 

"I  saw  a  good  one  when  I  cut  my  stakes," 
Davenport  told  him.  "Come;  I'll  show  you. 
Pardon  me,"  he  begged  the  girl,  taking  the  torch 
from  her  hand.  "Wait  here:  I'll  be  back  in  a 

jiffy." 

He  drew  Simmins  in  the  direction  of  the 
thicket. 

"Look  here,  Simmins,"  said  he  good-humour- 
edly,  "you're  a  fraud." 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Simmins  in  his  best  manner. 

"Were  you  actually  in  the  Boer  War?" 

"Yes,  sir;  indeed  so,  sir." 

"What  service?  Now  come  through  and  be 
human." 

"Remount  depot,  sir." 

"The  only  thing  you  fought  was  horseflies, 
eh?" 

"Quite  so,  sir." 

"Ever  see  a  tent  before?" 

"Yes,  sir;  at  the  circus,  sir." 

"I  see,"  Davenport  grinned.  "Am  I  correct 
in  gathering  that  nine-tenths  of  the  time  you  are 
running  a  blazer  on  these  people  and  that  you 
really  are  human?" 

"I  don't  quite  gather  your  meaning,  sir." 


ON    TIPTOE  59 

"I  think  you  do." 

Simmins  hesitated;  then  decided. 

"Yes,  sir;  quite  so,  sir." 

"Good!  Now,  Simmins,  do  you  want  to  be 
with  me  or  against  me?" 

"Explain,  please,  sir." 

"In  plain  English  do  you  want  me  to  tell 
you  how  to  tighten  that  tent,  for  example,  or 
bawl  you  out?  Do  you  want  me  to  back  your 
colossal  and  monumental  bluff,  or  call  it?" 

"What  do  you  want  of  me,  sir?"  asked  Sim 
mins  astutely. 

Davenport  chuckled.  "You're  alive  behind 
that  front  after  all,  aren't  you,  old  top?  Well, 
for  one  thing,  for  heaven's  sake  look  and  act  hu 
man  out  here  in  the  woods ;  while  you're  around 
me,  anyway.  I  like  friendly  creatures  to  work 
with." 

"That's  what  Miss  Burton  says,"  commented 
Simmins. 

"Oh,  does  she!"  said  Davenport  with  interest. 
"Well,  that's  all  I  want  at  present.  Bluff  them 
as  much  as  you  want:  that's  your  profession. 
But  don't  bluff  me.  Later  I  may  want  you  to 
kill  the  tall,  dark  man :  I  don't  know.  I  don't  like 
him.  Now  as  to  that  tent:  cut  two  long  poles 
with  forks  in  them ;  the  poles  must  be  considera 
bly  longer  than  the  tent  is  high.  Stick  the  poles 
slanting  under  the  ropes  that  suspend  the  tent, 


60  ON    TIPTOE 

one  at  each  end  of  the  tent.  By  straightening 
the  poles  you  raise  and  tighten  the  tent.  Get 
it?" 

"Yes,  sir;  indeed  I  do,  sir!"  cried  Simmins 
with  real  fire  and  enthusiasm. 

"Noble  child,"  Davenport  approved  these 
qualities,  "we'll  have  you  a  Boy  Scout  yet." 

The  shelters  up,  Davenport  next  started  Sim 
mins  to  digging  semicircular  ditches  around 
their  up-grade  sides.  This  was,  he  explained, 
to  carry  aside  the  flood  waters;  at  which  Gar 
diner,  unable  to  contain  himself  further,  uttered 
an  exclamation  of  impatience. 

"I  beg  your  pardon?"  said  Davenport,  turning 
in  elaborately  polite  enquiry. 

"I  said  nothing,"  Gardiner  told  him,  "but  I'd 
as  soon  say  now  that  it  would  be  well  to  drop 
this  childish  foolishness  and  get  down  to  busi 
ness.  It's  getting  late." 

"By  childish  foolishness  you  refer — ?" 

"All  this  heavy  digging  and  elaborate  buffoon 
ery.  There's  about  as  much  chance  of  rain  as 
there  is  of  snow.  You  must  take  us  for  east 
erners  or  fools.  We  know  something  of  the  Cali 
fornia  climate!" 

Davenport  dropped  the  cot  bed,  which  he  was 
unfolding,  and  sauntered  carelessly  over  to 
where  Gardiner  stood.  Gardiner  drew  himself 
up.  When  within  hand  distance  Davenport 


ON    TIPTOE  61 

came  to  a  halt.  The  men  stared  each  other  in 
the  eye. 

"You  are  not  overly  polite,"  remarked  Daven 
port  after  a  moment,  "and,  to  be  frank,  I  don't 
believe  I  like  you  anyway.  But  as  we're  likely 
to  be  together  for  the  next  week  or  so,  it  will 
be  pleasanter  for  everybody  if  we  do  not  quarrel. 
However,  my  merry  man,  I'll  talk  a  language 
you  understand,  and  I'll  just  lay  you  a  little  bet 
that  it  rains  and  that  the  redwood  yonder  falls." 

His  eyes  held  Gardiner  steadily.  The  latter 
looked  superciliously  down  his  nose,  disdaining 
reply. 

"Well?"  challenged  Davenport. 

"It's  an  absurd  bet." 

"I'm  offering  it.  Either  you'll  take  it,  or  I 
don't  want  another  peep  out  of  you  as  to  the 
arrangements  I  choose  to  make." 

Gardiner's  dark  face  flushed  at  the  other's 
tone.  He  made  his  decision  to  teach  this  upstart 
a  lesson. 

"I'll  take  you,"  he  said  suddenly,  "on  condi 
tion  that  I  name  the  bet." 

"All  right." 

"Very  well,  then.     Ten  thousand  dollars." 

Burton  uttered  a  little  cry  of  reproach.  Grim- 
stead,  who  had  been  listening  amusedly,  inter 
posed. 

"That's  beyond  a  joke,  beyond  all  reason,  Gar- 


62  ON    TIPTOE 

diner,"  he  objected.    "Have  some  sense  of  pro 
portion — " 

"He  asked  for  it;  not  I,"  insisted  Gardiner 
steadily. 

"Well,  I'm  not  going  to  permit  any  such  non 
sense — "  began  Grimstead;  but  Davenport  cut 
him  short. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Grimstead,  but  don't  bother. 
I'll  take  that  bet." 

"Now,  young  man,"  expostulated  Grimstead, 
"don't  be  stampeded  by  pride  into — " 

"Pardon  me  again,  Mr.  Grimstead;  and  thank 
you  again;  but  that's  all  settled.  I'll  just  get  it 
down  in  writing  and  get  you  to  witness  it,  if 
you  will;  so  we'll  have  a  little  record  of  the 
transaction." 

"I  expect  to  collect  this  bet,"  warned  Gardi 
ner,  stung  by  the  suggestion  of  this  precaution. 

"If  you  win,"  amended  Davenport,  "and  I  ex 
pect  to  collect  it,  if  I  win." 

"My  money  is  good,"  stated  Gardiner  bluntly. 
"How  do  I  know  whether  you  can  pay?" 

"Oh,  as  for  that,  I  might  ask  the  same  ques 
tion  of  you." 

"Mr.  Grimstead  can  vouch  for  my  solvency. 
Where  are  your  guarantees?" 

The  young  man  looked  a  little  puzzled. 

"I  have  none  for  the  moment,  of  course;  but 
the  instant  we  go  out  to  a  town — " 


ON    TIPTOE  63 

Gardiner  laughed. 

"You'll  mortgage  the  garage  to  pay  up — of 
course,"  he  sneered.  "No.  As  you  told  me  a 
while  back,  put  up  or  shut  up !" 

Davenport  shook  his  head  at  him,  and  laughed. 

"You're  a  quibbler,  Gardiner.  I'll  bet  you're 
legal  adviser  to  a  predatory  corporation." 

Gardiner  laughed,  a  nasty,  sneering,  walk-the- 
plank  laugh. 

"Bet's  off,"  said  he,  "I  thought  it  would  be." 

"The  bet  is  not  off,"  spoke  up  Burton  sud 
denly.  "I  will  guarantee  Mr.  Davenport." 

At  this  the  silent  wood  gods — who,  it  will  be 
remembered,  had  again  drawn  close  about — ut 
tered  three  rousing  but  silent  cheers. 


CHAPTER  VII 

BY  the  time  this  little  affair  was  all  arranged 
for,  one  good-sized  storm  had  broken  and 
cleared,  anyway.  Burton  had  told  her  father 
plainly  that  she  was  of  age  and  mistress  of  her 
own  fortune.  Gardiner  had  protested  and  had 
been  put  in  his  place.  Both  men  had  appealed  to 
Davenport's  better  nature  not  to  take  advan 
tage  of  an  emotional  young  girl.  Davenport 
had  winked  openly  and  shamelessly  at  Burton 
and  blithely  proclaimed  himself  a  regular  Shy- 
lock  when  it  came  to  money.  The  terms  of 
the  bet  had  been  restated,  and  the  men's  watches 
synchronised.  The  work  had  been  resumed 
finally  in  sullen  gloom  on  the  part  of  the  Chief 
and  his  First  Mate,  and  with  joyous,  carefree 
carolling  on  the  part  of  Davenport,  who  chose 
that  propitious  moment  to  affront  the  wood  gods 
with  a  burlesque  of  Italian  opera.  The  arrange 
ments  were  concluded  by  running  the  two  cars 
farther  out  into  the  open  meadow. 

"The  ground'll  soften,"  speculated  Davenport, 
"and  we'll  bog  down — but  if  we  stick  near  the 
road  we're  likely  to  get  smashed  by  a  branch — 
I  have  it!" 

64 


ON    TIPTOE  65 

He  and  the  now  enthusiastic  Simmins  pro 
ceeded  to  cut  a  number  of  willow  poles  which 
they  laid  on  the  ground  to  form  a  sort  of  plat 
form,  or  rather  floor.  On  this  they  ran  the  two 
cars. 

"Now  when  we  want  to  go  out,  we  can  lay 
more  poles  to  form  a  corduroy,"  he  said. 

While  engaged  in  cutting  the  poles  Simmins 
approached  him  with  a  proposition. 

"I  say,  sir,"  said  he,  "I  have  a  few  quid  laid 
by.  I'd  like  it  jolly  well  if  you  could  cut  me 
in  on  that  bet  for  a  tenner  or  so." 

Davenport  stared. 

"Aren't  you  taking  big  chances?"  he  enquired. 
"What  do  you  know  about  the  weather?" 

"Not  a  thing,  sir!"  replied  Simmins  cheer 
fully.  "Not  a  thing!  But  I  do  know  a  tidy 
bit  about  sportsmen,  sir;  and,  if  you  will  par 
don  me,  I  do  not  think  you  are  bluffing.  And 
I'd  back  you,  sir,  against  Mr.  Gardiner  any  day 
of  the  week." 

"Thank  you,  Simmins.  You're  in  for  a  ten- 
spot;  as  you  say." 

All  matters  being  settled,  Davenport  dis 
tributed  the  blankets,  rugs  and  greatcoats, 
and  suggested  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to 
turn  in. 

"Turn  in!"  cried  Burton.  "I  couldn't  sleep 
a  wink.  I'm  going  to  sit  right  here  until  two 


66  ON    TIPTOE 

o'clock  and  greet  that  rain  storm!  How  could 
you  even  suggest  sleep?" 

"Well,"  said  Davenport,  "suit  yourself,  of 
course.  But  if  you'll  pardon  me,  I'll  just  snatch 
a  few  winks.  I've  been  driving  all  day,  and  I 
expect  we  won't  any  of  us  get  much  sleep  after 
the  thing  hits." 

He  crawled  under  the  lean-to  shelter,  and 
wrapped  a  blanket  around  his  shoulders. 

"Before  you  leave  us,"  begged  Grimstead  with 
a  faint  irony,  "I  would  like  to  ask  what  you 
meant  when  you  said  we  were  likely  to  be  to 
gether  for  the  next  week  or  so.  Is  that  one 
of  your  extraordinary  predictions?" 

"No.  Knowledge  of  California  mud,"  replied 
Davenport;  and  was  apparently  at  once  asleep. 

"Well,"  stated  Grimstead  emphatically  in  a 
low  voice,  "I've  sat  in  at  some  steep  games  in 
my  time,  but  for  good  consistent  hole-proof 
bluffing  this  young  man  carries  it  out  more  com 
pletely  than  any.  By  Godfrey,  he  does  it  well! 
He's  almost  got  me  looking  for  his  cussed  storm 
myself!" 

"If  you  ask  me,  I  think  he  is  crazy,"  growled 
Gardiner  morosely.  He  was  still  savage  over 
Burton's  rescue  party;  and  he  reflected  vindic 
tively  that  now  he  would  collect  that  ten  thou 
sand  even  if  Davenport  proved  to  have  escaped 
from  a  lunatic  asylum. 


ON    TIPTOE  67 

Burton  said  nothing,  but  occasionally  glanced 
up  to  the  opening  in  the  redwood  tops ;  where,  it 
must  be  acknowledged,  the  stars  still  gazed 
serenely  down. 

After  about  nine  or  ten  hours  of  this  Grim- 
stead  looked  at  his  watch. 

"Holy  Mike !"  he  exclaimed.  "It's  only  a  little 
after  ten  o'clock!  I  thought  it  was  near  morn 
ing,  at  least.  Look  here,  Burton;  I'm  going  to 
turn  in,  and  I  know  Ross  and  Simmins  want  to 
too.  Sit  up  and  greet  your  rain  storm  all  you 
want,  but  for  heaven's  sake  do  it  in  your  tent 
and  give  us  a  chance!" 

In  five  minutes  the  dying  fire  was  deserted. 
The  lean-to  covered  four  recumbent  forms.  In 
side  the  little  tent  Burton  lay  on  the  cot  staring 
upward  at  the  flicker  of  the  flames  cast  across 
the  wall.  She  would  wait  thus  until  the  zero 
hour  had  passed.  It  was  inunderstandable  how 
the  men  could  sleep  in  the  face  of  thrilling  sus 
pense.  After  a  few  moments  she  heard  the  sound 
of  a  soft  and  stealthy  approach.  She  raised  her 
self  tensely  on  her  elbow.  In  the  tent  opening 
the  firelight  showed  the  Irish  terrier,  his  back 
humped  in  obsequience,  his  head  ingratiatingly 
sidewise,  his  lips  wrinkled  back  in  his  engaging 
grin.  Seeing  himself  observed,  he  sneezed  softly 
in  propitiation.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  ac 
customed  to  spend  his  nights  in  the  tent;  but 


68  ON    TIPTOE 

his  canine  courtesy  rendered  him  doubtful  of 
the  proprieties. 

"Come  in,  Rap,"  invited  Burton  softly. 

He  made  one  bound  to  the  foot  of  the  bed, 
where  he  curled  up  in  a  compact  fuzzy  ball, 
wriggling  his  stump  of  a  tail.  Burton  threw  the 
edge  of  her  cloak  over  him.  As  she  sank  back 
again  she  realised  for  the  first  time  she  had 
failed  to  tuck  Punketty-Snivvles  in  his  little  bas 
ket  ;  indeed,  she  had  not  the  slightest  idea  where 
Punketty-Snivvles  was.  And  did  not  care! 

She  lay  for  some  time,  flat  on  her  back,  watch 
ing  the  flicker  of  the  fire  against  the  canvas. 
Several  times  her  eyes  blurred  into  a  staring, 
and  the  leaping  shadows  became  monstrous. 
Then  they  faded;  and  she  slept. 

Some  time  later  she  came  to  herself  with  a 
start.  The  fire  shadows  were  no  longer  play 
ing  against  the  tent.  A  heavy,  black,  breathless 
stillness  brooded,  as  though  the  world  slumbered 
deeply.  Through  the  slit  of  the  tent's  opening 
shone  a  single  star.  With  a  foreboding  sinking 
of  the  heart  Burton  lighted  a  match  and  glanced 
at  her  wrist  watch.  One-fifteen.  Fifteen  min 
utes  remained  before  the  conclusion  of  this  fan 
tastic  bet;  and  there  hung  the  star  in  its  patch 
of  heaven.  A  profound  disappointment  seized 
her.  She  reached  down  to  pat  the  terrier,  who 
acknowledged  the  attention  merely  by  snuggling 


ON    TIPTOE  69 

a  little  closer  into  his  fuzzy  ball.  Then  she  lay 
back  and  stared  up  into  the  darkness. 

Never  had  she  experienced  such  absolute  still 
ness.  A  silence  is  made  up  of  many  sounds ;  and 
the  silence  of  night  has,  for  all  its  hush,  a  thou 
sand  tiny  voices.  But  here  were  no  frogs,  no 
crickets,  no  tree  toads,  no  distant  muffled  owls 
nor  whip-poor-wills.  The  fronds  of  the  redwood 
giants  were  so  lofty  that  the  whispers  of  any 
breeze  there  might  have  been  were  inaudible. 
The  immediate  vicinity  of  the  tent  seemed  des 
titute  even  of  the  tiny  water  drippings  so  usual 
in  the  forest.  Burton  became  acutely  conscious 
of  the  beat  of  her  pulses,  the  singing  of  her 
ears.  By  holding  herself  quiet  she  could  even 
hear  faintly  the  roar  of  the  sea;  and  that  was 
over  a  mountain  range  and  many  miles.  Her 
thoughts  wandered  back  to  the  young  man  and 
his  bet,  though  in  justice  it  must  be  stated  that 
not  once  did  the  fact  that  she  had  guaranteed 
his  paying  cross  her  mind. 

Again  her  mind  ungeared,  and  she  heard  the 
far-off  surf.  It  sounded  louder,  more  distinct. 
Some  peculiarity  of  air  currents  had  curiously 
affected  the  acoustics.  She  struck  another 
match.  One-twenty-two.  Some  one  stirred  in 
the  other  shelter;  arose;  and  poked  the  embers 
of  the  fire  to  a  flame.  Burton  knew  instinctively 
that  this  was  Ross  Gardiner.  She  turned  her 


70  ON    TIPTOE 

head  impatiently.  The  change  of  position  had 
blotted  out  even  the  friendly  star.  How  near 
the  surf  sounded!  She  must  be  falling  asleep 
in  spite  of  herself,  be  already  on  that  border 
land  where  physical  sensations  are  magnified. 
By  an  effort  she  sat  upright  and  shook  herself. 
Rapscallion  awoke  and  whined. 

Overhead  a  tiny  twig  fell  on  the  canvas  with 
a  sharp  spat.  After  an  interval  another;  and 
another;  and  another.  Suddenly  Burton  remem 
bered  that  the  tent  was  not  under  the  trees.  She 
sprang  from  the  cot.  The  twigs  were  coming 
more  quickly.  She  thrust  open  the  flap  and 
thrust  her  head  and  shoulders  through.  The  roar 
of  the  surf  was  now  even  more  plainly  to  be 
heard.  A  warm  drop  splashed  her  forehead; 
another  her  cheek.  Airs  were  stirring,  soft  as 
velvet.  The  man  at  the  fire  had  coaxed  it  into 
a  tiny  flame.  Burton  saw  she  had  been  mis 
taken;  that  this  was  not  Gardiner,  but  Daven 
port.  The  young  man  had  on  a  yellow  slicker 
and  sou'wester  hat.  He  looked  up  and  caught 
her  eye. 

"She's  coming,"  said  he  cheerfully.  "Listen  to 
her!" 

And  then  Burton  suddenly  realised  that  the 
roar  was  not  of  the  surf,  but  of  the  tempest  hur 
tling  through  the  forest. 

She  stepped  to  the  fire,  glancing  curiously  at 


ON    TIPTOE  71 

the  recumbent  figures  under  the  other  shelter. 

"Once  a  man's  asleep,  he's  hard  to  awaken 
until  after  three  o'clock,"  Davenport  answered 
her  unspoken  wonder,  "unless  he's  been  brought 
up  in  the  open  and  so  is  sensitive  to  outside 
things.  But  they'll  awaken  quickly  enough  in 
a  few  minutes!" 

Burton  looked  at  her  watch  again.  One- 
twenty-six. 

"Oughtn't  you  to  awaken  Mr.  Gardiner  to  wit 
ness  that  it's  raining  and  he's  lost  his  bet?"  she 
asked. 

"He  probably  wouldn't  acknowledge  these  few 
drops  as  rain,"  said  Davenport  easily.  "He's  a 
natural  quibbler." 

"There  are  less  than  four  minutes." 

Davenport  glanced  at  his  own  wrist  watch. 

"Three,"  said  he  composedly,  "Gardiner  and 
I  set  our  watches  alike,  you  recall." 

"Oh,  dear!"  cried  Burton. 

"Don't  worry;  it  will  be  here  in  less  than  two. 
Listen." 

The  roaring  was  louder,  with  a  half -guessed 
undertone  of  crashing,  the  beat  of  a  wild  rhythm. 

"It  frightens  me,"  she  confessed,  "it's  like  the 
approach  of  a  ravening  wild  beast." 

"You  are  safe,"  he  told  her  confidently;  "I'll 
answer  for  it.  Believe  that;  and  enjoy  it  as  the 
great  and  fearful  spectacle  it  will  be.  But  get 


72  ON    TIPTOE 

into  the  tent  now.  You  must  not  get  wet,  for 
there  will  be  no  chance  to  dry  off ;  and  when  this 
hits  it  will  come  in  buckets." 

They  turned  together  to  the  tent.  One  of  the 
figures  under  the  shelter  stirred  uneasily,  some 
faint  echoes  of  the  turmoil  penetrating  his 
dreams. 

"When  the  wind  comes  before  the  rain, 
Hoist  your  topsails  up  again. 
When  the  rain  comes  before  the  wind, 
Topsails  dowse  and  halliards  mind!" 

chanted  Davenport  in  full  voice.  Overhead 
Burton  heard  a  hurried  patter  as  though  many 
little  feet  scurried  across  the  canvas;  then  suc 
ceeded  a  drumming. 

"Roll  out!  Roll  out!"  yelled  Davenport. 
"Roll  out  and  sec  it  rain!  At  a  thousand  drops 
for  a  cent  my  ten  thousand  would  be  overpaid 
a  thousand  times!" 

With  a  furious  rush  the  wind  fell  upon  them. 

Burton  had  thought  she  would  be  looking  out 
to  see  the  spectacle.  Instead  she  huddled  on 
the  cot,  hugged  Rapscallion,  and  wondered  how 
long  the  tent  would  stand  under  the  furious  as 
saults  delivered  against  it.  The  roar  of  the  water 
against  the  canvas  and  the  fierce  howl  of  the 
wind  muffled  the  rending  crashes  of  branches,  and 


ON    TIPTOE  73 

the  crescendo  of  falling  trees.  All  the  air  seemed 
full  of  devils  of  wind  and  water.  The  tent  al 
ternately  sagged  and  bulged  in  sharp,  fierce  tugs 
at  its  moorings,  so  that  it  seemed  impossible  it 
could  hold  together.  Burton  appeared  to  her 
self  to  be  completely  isolated,  with  Rapscallion; 
cut  off  by  the  fierceness  of  the  elements  from 
all  mankind.  Once,  however,  the  circle  of  the 
flashlight  showed  at  the  bottom  of  the  tent,  fol 
lowed  it  around.  She  heard  muffled  blows,  as 
the  tent  pegs  were  assured.  A  few  moments 
later  Davenport  showed  at  the  doorway,  the 
water  streaming  from  his  face  and  garments, 
grinned  at  her  reassuringly,  shouted  something, 
and  disappeared. 

This  continued  for  a  long  time.  It  seemed 
hours  to  Burton.  But  a  little  before  three 
o'clock  the  fury  of  the  tempest  passed  on.  Or 
derliness  resumed  its  control.  The  wild  orgy 
of  the  elements  was  replaced  by  a  business-like 
deluge  of  rain,  that  struck  its  pitch  and  held 
it  in  a  steady,  sustained  roar  of  falling  waters. 
After  the  nervous  strain  of  the  upheaval  it  was 
actually  soothing.  Burton  relaxed;  lay  down; 
drew  the  covers  over  her.  In  thirty  seconds  she 
was  profoundly  asleep. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

SHE  came  to  herself  hours  later,  rather  un 
comfortable  at  having  slept  in  all  her  clothes ; 
but  considerably  refreshed,  none  the  less.  The 
grey  daylight  had  come.  Outside,  the  rain 
drummed  steadily  on  the  tent,  but  its  sound  had 
been  overlaid  by  the  sustained  rush  and  dash  of 
flowing  waters.  The  creek  was  in  flood.  Burton 
threw  off  the  blanket  and  arose,  shaking  her 
wrinkled  garments  into  place,  and  attempting 
to  readjust  by  sense  of  touch  her  tumbled  hair. 
As  soon  as  she  stirred,  Rapscallion,  who  must 
have  been  awaiting  this  signal,  hopped  down 
from  his  snug  nest,  wriggled  his  stump  of  a  tail, 
and  disappeared  outside.  Rapscallion  was  hardy, 
and  possessed  a  thick  coat. 

Burton  parted  the  flaps  and  looked  out.  Dav 
enport's  forethought  had  faced  the  opening 
down  the  meadow,  so  that  the  force  of  the  tem 
pest  had  hit  the  back ;  but  this  arrangement  made 
it  impossible  for  her  to  see  the  other  shelter. 
Only  the  grey  veil  of  the  rain  and  the  slow  drift 
of  mists  that  eddied  and  concealed  and  momen 
tarily  revealed  the  columns  of  trees,  or  dark  little 
fragments  of  fern  or  frond. 

74 


ON    TIPTOE  75 

After  a  moment  she  heard  her  name  called 
from  behind  the  tent,  and  upon  her  answer  came 
Davenport  in  his  oilskins,  accompanied  by  the 
dog. 

"Rapscallion  told  me  you  were  awake,"  he 
greeted  her  cheerfully.  "Rest  any?" 

"I  slept  like  a  top.  How  did  all  of  you  get 
on?" 

"We  made  out.  There's  some  coffee  ready, 
and  we've  got  a  little  fire  over  in  the  other  pal 
ace."  He  glanced  at  her  feet.  "Mud  six  inches 
deep,"  he  remarked;  and  before  she  gathered 
what  he  was  about,  he  had  picked  her  up  and 
was  on  his  way. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  protest  and  be  set 
down;  but  an  instantaneous  second  thought  re 
minded  her  of  Simmins,  on  which  she  chuckled 
delightedly  and  submitted.  Indeed  the  liquid 
squelch  of  Davenport's  footsteps  would  have  re 
signed  her  to  worse  than  that. 

"Hullo,  everybody!"  she  cried  cheerfully  as 
they  hove  in  sight;  but  before  she  could  collect 
her  anticipated  fun  in  looks  of  disapproval  or 
amazement,  she  was  dumped  rather  unceremoni 
ously  on  a  blanket  under  the  shelter. 

"Look  out  you  don't  touch  the  canvas,  even 
with  the  tip  of  your  finger,"  warned  Davenport, 
"or  it  will  leak.". 

A  tiny  fire  blazed  merrily  just  at  the  edge  of 


76  ON    TIPTOE 

the  shelter,  a  marvellous  sight  to  Burton  in  all 
this  deluge.  Her  father  and  Gardiner  sat  lean 
ing  against  a  log  in  the  background  and  Simmins 
fussed  with  a  coffee  pot  over  a  small  gasoline 
stove.  Grimstead  looked  good-natured,  and 
amused  by  the  turn  of  events ;  Gardiner  was  com 
pany-manners  polite,  which  meant  that  he  was 
disgruntled;  Simmins  was  bright  and  chipper. 
This  fact  registered  on  Burton's  mind  only  on 
second  inspection;  when  she  examined  more 
closely  the  erstwhile  automaton.  There  was  no 
doubt  of  it ;  something  had  happened  to  Simmins. 
His  manner  was  free  and  independent  and  hu 
man;  his  spirit  was  plainly  blithe  and  debonair; 
no  longer  did  he  conceal  rigidly  his  naturally 
frivolous  proclivities.  When  he  caught  her  eye 
he  greeted  her  brightly;  with  entire  lack  of  im 
pertinence,  to  be  sure,  but  nevertheless  brightly, 
instead  of  with  the  mortuary  frigidity  appropri 
ate  to  a  mastodon  preserved  in  a  glacier.  He 
poured  some  coffee  and  crawled  carefully  with 
it  to  Burton. 

"Coffee,  Miss,"  he  should  have  enunciated 
briefly  in  the  dispassionately  mechanical  method 
of  the  dictograph ;  instead  of  which  he  remarked : 
"That'll  warm  you  up." 

Not  a  very  startling  variation;  say  you?  Get 
out  of  my  story!  It  is  evident  that  the  tribe  of 
Simmins  is  unknown  to  you. 


ON    TIPTOE  77 

This  cataclysmic  volte-face  was  of  course,  as 
all  such  things  are,  a  slow  culmination.  The 
Land  of  the  Free,  the  Melting  Pot,  and  the  Re 
fined  Screen  Drammer  had  long  been  getting  in 
their  subtle  work.  But  the  immediate  occasion 
was  Davenport.  Simmins  was  by  nature  a  hero- 
worshipper;  otherwise  he  would  have  had  noth 
ing  stable  to  tie  to  in  his  kind  of  life.  He  did 
no  try  to  imitate  his  heroes ;  they  were  much  too 
splendiferously  magnificent  for  such  as  he.  But 
he  could  make  of  himself  an  appropriate  appa 
nage.  I  once  saw  alongside  the  highway  a  mag 
nificent  work  of  art  painted  on  a  hoarding.  It 
represented  in  the  foreground,  and  nearly  life 
size,  a  certain,  small,  cheap  motor  car,  which  we 
will  call  the  Surrey.  Dimly,  in  the  background, 
ghostlike  but  plainly  to  be  identified,  stood  a 
Rolls-Royce,  a  Pierce-Arrow,  and  a  Locomo 
bile.  The  legend  ran:  "The  Surrey,  Companion 
to  the  World's  Best  Cars."  Well,  that  was  Sim 
mins.  Heretofore  his  world's  best  car  had  been 
a  certain  speedster  with  forty-seven  suits  of 
clothes  and  particular  manners  named  Lord 
Cecil  some-thing-or-other-important.  There  is 
no  use  going  into  the  specifications  of  Lord  Cecil, 
for  he  does  not  appear  in  this  story;  but  where- 
ever  in  this  wide  and  uncouth  world  our  Sim 
mins  wandered  there  acted  he  the  part  of  one 
serving  Lord  Cecil  as  particularly  and  as  im- 


78  ON    TIPTOE 

personally  as  that  peer  could  require.  But  with 
the  laying  of  that  ten-thousand-dollar  wager, 
Simmins'  allegiance  shifted. 

That  morning  when  Davenport  had  awak 
ened  from  his  brief  sleep  he  found  that  Simmins' 
place  was  already  empty;  and  slopping  his  way 
out  to  the  cars,  he  found  the  butler-chauffeur, 
clad  in  a  mackintosh,  delving  in  the  pockets  of 
the  larger  car. 

"Hullo,  Simmins,"  Davenport  addressed  the 
stooping  back. 

Then  even  he  was  astonished.  Simmins 
straightened  and  turned.  He  spoke. 

"Toodleyou!"  he  cried  brightly. 

Sheer  astonishment  held  Davenport  dumb. 

"You  certainly  did  call  the  turn!"  continued 
Simmins.  "And  I  congratulate  you,  sir!  I'd 
like  to  have  you  with  me  at  Goodwood! 
Wouldn't  we  make  a  cleaning,  if  you  could  pick 
the  ponies  as  well!  My  word!"  He  waved  his 
hand  airily.  "And  to  rook  his  nibs  does  my  heart 
good !  I'll  buy  me  a  little  souvenir  with  the  ten 
ner  you  let  me  in  for.  I  suppose  that  goes, 
sir?" 

"Certainly,"  laughed  Davenport.  "How  could 
I  forget  it?  You  and  Miss  Burton  were  my 
only  backers.  We'll  all  buy  a  souvenir.  You'd 
better  make  yours  a  Liberty  Bond  though,  Sim 
mins,  if  you  take  my  advice." 


ON    TIPTOE  79 

"Liberty  Bond,  sir,  with  a  tenner?"  puzzled 
Simmins. 

"Tenner,"  repeated  Davenport,  also  pretend 
ing  to  be  puzzled.  "Oh!"  he  simulated  enlight 
enment.  "I  see!  Did  you  imagine  for  a  moment 
I'd  bother  with  a  sum  like  ten  dollars?" 

"What  else,  sir?"  asked  Simmins  uneasily. 

"Ten  hundreds,  of  course,"  replied  Davenport. 

"Good  Lord!  If  it  had  not  rained  I'd  have 
been  out  a  thousand  dollars?" 

"Most  certainly,"  Davenport  assured  him  seri 
ously.  "As  it  is  you  shall  have  my  check  for 
a  thousand  the  moment  Mr.  Gardiner  pays  his 
debt." 

And  now  you  know  why  Simmins  passed  the 
coffee  in  that  care-free,  swashbuckling  spirit 
that  permitted  him  to  tell  Burton  that  that 
would  warm  her  up! 

Burton  too  looked  at  him  with  a  surprise  that 
he  received  almost  with  a  cheerful  wink. 

"You're  coming  on,  Simmins,"  she  remarked. 

"Yes,  miss,"  he  acknowledged  with  so  engag 
ing  an  air  that  both  Burton  and  Davenport  burst 
into  laughter,  in  which  Simmins  joined  quite  un 
abashed. 

"Looks  as  if  it  might  rain  forever,"  remarked 
Grimstead  after  a  pause. 

Davenport  glanced  at  his  wrist  watch  and 
made  a  rapid  calculation. 


80  ON    TIPTOE 

"It  will  stop  at  ten  minutes  to  ten,"  he  stated. 

Grimstead  too  made  a  calculation. 

"I  remember  now  you  did  say  it  would  last 
just  eight  hours  and  twenty  minutes,"  he  said, 
"and  that  would  bring  it  to  the  hour  you  name. 
I'll  acknowledge  that  you  called  the  turn  on  this 
storm,  and  you  cut  pretty  fine  to  the  time  it 
would  begin,  too.  You  had  mighty  good  luck 
there;  but  you  can't  lean  on  your  luck  too  heav 
ily,  my  boy.  You're  cutting  it  too  fine.  Be  rea 
sonable!" 

"Nevertheless,  if  you'll  allow  me  five  minutes 
either  way,"  smiled  the  young  man,  "I'll  lay 
anybody  another  bet."  He  glanced  at  Gardiner, 
who  did  not  look  up. 

The  millionaire  laughed. 

"Well,  you  are  a  good  sport;  I'll  say  that  for 
you.  I'm  no  heavy  gambler,  like  you  young 
fellows  with  lots  of  money.  I'll  bet  you  a  box 
of  cigars,  just  to  make  it  interesting." 

"All  right." 

"By  the  way,"  added  Grimstead,  "didn't  you 
say  something  about  a  tree — ?" 

"It's  down,  square  across  the  road,"  inter 
rupted  Simmins  eagerly. 

"The  deuce  you  say!"  Grimstead  sat  up. 
"How  many  others  are  down?"  he  enquired  after 
an  instant. 

"None,  sir,  not  one!"  cried  Simmins  trium- 


ON    TIPTOE  81 

phantly,  as  though  the  glory  were  his  own  per 
sonally.  "I  took  especial  pains  to  look." 

"This  is  the  most  extraordinary  exhibition  of 
either  fantastic  bull  luck  or  prophecy  or  a  mix 
ture  of  both  I  have  ever  witnessed!"  said  Grim- 
stead.  "It's — it's  almost  uncanny!" 

"There's  nothing  uncanny  about  it,"  assured 
Davenport,  "and  there's  no  luck  at  all.  It's  ex 
act,  or  nearly  so." 

"Exact!    You'll  have  to  show  me!" 

"Well,  haven't  I?" 

"To  a  certain  extent.  But  looks  to  me  as  if 
there's  a  lot  of  luck." 

"Not  at  all.  The  storm  was  the  exact  product 
of  a  whole  series  of  causes  and  effects  working 
out;  and  as  the  causes  and  effects  are  all  sub 
ject  to  physical  law,  which  is  unchangeable,  any 
prediction  as  to  the  time  or  the  direction  or  the 
strength  or  duration  of  a  storm  can  be  entirely 
exact,  provided  it  is  based  on  those  causes  and 
effects." 

"And  the  tree?"  put  in  Burton  interestedly. 

"Same  thing:  cause  and  effect.  A  thousand 
of  them  have  been  working  for  a  very  long  time. 
Some  of  them  are  even  so  small  as  a  beetle 
severing  a  single  root  tendril.  Yet  the  sum  of 
all  of  them  points  inexorably  to  a  definite  mo 
ment  of  culmination.  The  tree  falls.  You  see 
that,  don't  you?" 


82  ON    TIPTOE 

"Of  course  I  see  that!"  replied  Grimstead  im 
patiently.  "But  to  make  an  accurate  prediction 
every  one  of  these  numberless  causes  and  effects 
must  be  known,  without  exception,  and  their  pre 
cise  strength  and  bearing  accurately  estimated. 
That  is  impossible!" 

"How  else  could  it  be  done?"  demanded  Dav 
enport. 

"I  don't  know— luck!  Sheer,  bald  luck!" 
growled  Grimstead. 

"At  any  rate  it  saved  us  a  wetting — and  per 
haps  death  if  we  had  stayed  under  that  tree," 
Burton  pointed  out. 

"By  Jove,  you're  right!"  agreed  Grimstead 
heartily.  "And  incidentally  won  your  ten  thou 
sand  dollars.  You'll  have  to  pay  up,  you  know, 
Gardiner!  Fair  bet!" 

"I  intend  to  pay  up;  I  always  discharge  my 
obligations.  The  young  man  hardly  expects  me 
to  carry  such  a  sum  of  money  in  my  waistcoat 
pocket,  I  suppose,"  replied  Gardiner.  He 
turned  to  Davenport  with  thinly  veiled  insolence. 
"I  hope  you  have  planned  what  you  will  do  with 
such  a  large  amount?"  said  he  blandly. 

Davenport  was  surveying  him  with  dancing 
eyes. 

"No,"  he  replied  carelessly,  "I  can't  say  I  have. 
I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do;  I'll  match  you  for  it." 


ON    TIPTOE  83 

He  produced  a  coin  which  he  balanced  on  the 
tip  of  his  finger,  challengingly. 

Gardiner  hesitated  uncomfortably;  then 
shrugged  his  shoulders  with  as  good  an  air  of 
disdain  as  he  could  muster. 

"Certainly  not;  I'm  no  damn  fool,"  he  de 
cided. 

A  quickly  smothered  sound  burst  from  Sim- 
mins.  It  sounded  like  a  choking  cough,  but  had 
started  life  as  a  British  cheer.  Davenport  pock 
eted  his  coin  with  a  droll  wink  in  the  direction 
of  his  new  slave. 

"As  I  said  before  with  reference  to  quarrel 
ling,"  said  he,  "we  shall  be  here  for  five  or  six 
days,  anyway ;  and  we  may  as  well  consider  our 


resources." 


"Is  that  another  prediction?"  demanded  Grim- 
stead. 

"Well — in  a  way — call  it  that.  It  does  not  pre 
tend  to  be  exact;  for  it  is  founded  merely  on 
common  sense  and  a  knowledge  of  Northern  Cal 
ifornia  roads  in  the  wet  season.  The  gumbo  out 
there  would  stick  a  ground  squirrel.  If  you 
don't  believe  it,  go  and  take  a  look.  There'll 
be  no  traffic  of  any  sort  until  it  hardens.  Of 
course  one  might  walk,  at  a  pinch,  but  it  would 
be  some  walk!  I'm  not  sure  you  wouldn't  stick 
like  a  fly  on  flypaper  at  that.  Anyway  there's 


84  ON    TIPTOE 

little  gained  by  that,  unless  your  business,  sir, 
makes  it  absolutely  imperative  that  you  get 
somewhere  in  a  given  time." 

"My  business,"  stated  Grimstead,  "for  the 
next  ten  days  or  two  weeks  is  to  burn  up  about 
a  half  pound  of  tobacco  and  to  see  that  the 
scenery  doesn't  move  around  too  much.  I  had 
also  a  sort  of  supplementary  job  of  murdering 
a  few  rainbows;  but  that  was  a  frill." 

"Good!"  said  Davenport.  "I  was  a  little 
afraid  we'd  have  to  make  the  try.  As  for  the 
rainbows,  the  stream  yonder  is  full  of  them.  Of 
course  in  this  flood  water  you  can't  catch  any; 
but  by  to-morrow  you  could  try  good  bait,  and 
by  the  day  after  a  fly." 

"Then  let  her  be  wet,  if  she  wants  to  be.  I'm 
happy.  I  don't  know  why  we  were  skyhooting 
over  so  much  country,  anyway.  This  looks 
good." 

"We  have,  I  believe,  no  provision  for  an  ex 
tended  stay  anywhere,"  Gardiner  pointed  out 
icily. 

"I  have  confidence  in  this  young  man,"  coun 
tered  Grimstead  comfortably.  "From  some  hid 
den  magic  he  will  produce  all  that  we  require 
for  our  simple  wants." 

"I  have  plenty  of  camp  food,"  corroborated 
Davenport,  '-for  I  had  just  stocked  up  for  rather 
a  long  cruise.  If  you  can  stand  camp  fare  we 


ON    TIPTOE  85 

won't  starve.  As  soon  as  it  stops  raining  we 
will  get  things  a  little  more  shipshape.  I  think 
there  will  be  bedding  enough  at  a  pinch.  If  not, 
put  on  two  suits  of  underwear;  you'll  find  it 
warmer  than  an  extra  blanket — air  space,  you 
know.  I  only  wish  we  had  more  suitable  clothes 
all  round."  He  spoke  generally,  but  he  glanced 
at  Burton's  silk-clad  ankles. 

"I  have  some  sport  clothes  and  heavy  tramp 
ing  boots,  if  you  mean  me,"  said  she.  "And  I'm 
glad  we're  going  to  stay.  I  adore  these  great 
trees.  I  want  to  live  with  them.  I  believe  I 
could  stay  here  forever." 

Grimstead  lay  prone  and  lighted  a  cigar.  His 
object  was  in  way  of  attainment.  Here  was  a 
little  human  interest.  Sulks  gone.  For  the  first 
time  forward  and  not  backward  looking.  To  be 
sure  Gardiner  was  not  living  up  to  expectations ; 
but  that  was  a  small  matter.  The  Pirate  Chief 
had  not  particularly  set  his  mind  on  Gardiner, 
though  Burton  thought  he  had.  Gardiner  was 
good  looking,  and — as  the  Second  in  Command 
— available  on  the  instant,  so  he  was  drafted 
into  service  as  a  hoped-for  antidote.  If  results 
could  be  procured  without  him,  as  now  seemed 
possible,  Gardiner  could  go  hang.  Pirate  Chiefs 
are  always  ruthess,  just  like  that.  What  Grim- 
stead  wanted  to  do  was  to  rid  himself  of  his 
two  especial  hates.  He  was  accustomed  to  be- 


86  ON    TIPTOE 

ing  attacked  in  the  newspapers,  and  shuddered 
at  by  the  altruistic,  and  ambuscaded  by  his  fellow 
pirates,  and  double-crossed  by  his  amiable  fellow- 
club  members,  and  being  grand- juryised,  and  all 
that;  and  he  took  it  with  a  good-natured  growl. 
They  were  part  of  life  as  he  understood  it.  But 
two  things  really  worried  him,  had  the  power 
to  penetrate  to  his  inner  self -poise.  Or,  to  speak 
more  freely,  two  things  got  under  his  skin ;  could 
get  his  goat.  One  of  these  was  Punketty-Sniv- 
vles;  the  other  was  Willie  Smeed.  They  were 
both  always  underfoot.  Punketty-Snivvles  we 
have  met.  It  is  not  necessary  to  draw  a  full- 
length  portrait  of  Willie.  He  was  a  nice  enough 
boy,  but  the  symbols  of  his  exterior  meant  things 
to  the  Pirate  Chief  that  were  perhaps  not  en 
tirely  justified  by  essential  facts.  Lots  of  peo 
ple  have  remarkably  sumptuous  manners,  play 
the  ukelele,  wear  embroidered  monograms  on  the 
left  sleeves  of  silk  shirts,  affect  small,  downy, 
light  moustaches,  take  a  personal  interest  in 
flower  arrangements,  are  authorities  on  colour 
schemes,  dress  always  in  light  or  pastel  tones, 
and  are  for  all  that  admirable,  efficient,  force 
ful  and  lovable  human  beings.  Lots  of  grown 
people  besides  golf-professionals  are  called  Wil 
lie  and  get  away  with  it  nobly.  But  not  with 
Pa  Grimstead!  When  he  found  there  was  no 
open  season  on  Willie  Smeed  in  any  month  of 


ON    TIPTOE  87 

the  year,  and  unwise  to  kill  Punketty-Sniwles 
at  all,  he  just  abducted  his  daughter  and  de 
parted  thence.  Willie  was  left  forlorn.  Pun- 
ketty-Snivvles  was  still  with  him;  but  one  thing 
at  a  time! 

His  contented  thoughts  had  wandered  this  far 
when  Burton,  as  though  she  had  followed  them, 
enquired  for  the  dear  little  animal. 

"I  stowed  him  in  the  car  last  night,  miss,"  an 
swered  Simmins,  "and  covered  him  quite  safely." 

"Better  get  him,"  advised  Burton. 

Punketty-Sniwles,  on  being  given  the  free 
dom  of  the  camp,  took  up  his  station  opposite 
Rapscallion  and  started  in  a  shrill,  yapping  voice 
to  tell  that  rough-neck  where  to  get  off.  He  did 
this  from  near  his  mistress,  and  he  kept  a  beady 
black  eye  on  her  to  catch  her  approval.  This 
was  an  old  and  successful  game  with  Punketty- 
Sniwles.  Rapscallion  closed  both  eyes  in  order 
to  lower  the  percentage  of  temptation  anyway. 

And  then  the  heavens  of  Things  as  They  Are 
fell  crashing  about  Punketty-Sniwles.  His  mis 
tress  reached  out,  seized  him  by  the  scruff  of  his 
neck  and  cuffed  him  soundly. 

"You  exasperating  little  idiot;  keep  quiet!" 
quoth  she. 

Punketty-Sniwles,  released,  backed  into  the 
deepest  part  of  the  shelter — which  happened  to 
be  next  to  Ross  Gardiner — and  there  he 


88  ON    TIPTOE 

crouched,  his  eyes  shining  phosphorescently,  gaz 
ing  small  malevolence  at  a  ruined  world. 

A  huge  cloud  of  smoke  arose  from  the  recum 
bent  Grimstead. 

"Oh,  boy!"  he  cried  in  tones  of  ecstasy;  and 
then  hastened  to  ask:  "How  big  do  those  rain 
bows  run,  Davenport?" 


CHAPTER  IX 

AT  the  appointed  hour  the  rain  ceased  and  the 
clouds  broke  in  the  instantaneous  California 
fashion  to  admit  a  bright  shining  sun.  The  whole 
world  was  a-glitter  with  jewels,  and  little  mists 
eddying  through  the  forest  drifted  in  and  out 
of  steady,  broad  shafts  of  light.  Down  in  the 
hollow  the  creek  still  roared  wildly;  and  nearer 
at  hand  yet  sounded  the  drip  of  many  waters. 

"You're  a  marvel  of  a  weather  prophet,"  ac 
knowledged  Grimstead,  "and  you  must  have  had 
long  experience  in  the  country.  I  take  off  my 
hat  to  you.  And  I  may  add  that  if  I  had  your 
luck  I'd  head  for  Tia  Juana  and  the  ponies.'* 

Simmins  brought  the  bags  from  the  car.  All 
retired  to  return  in  a  few  moments  dressed  in 
the  loose,  serviceable  clothes  and  stout  boots  of 
the  summer  camper.  Then  they  all  tramped 
down  to  the  road  to  see  the  fallen  giant. 

A  full-grown  redwood  tree  is  impressive  be 
yond  the  reach  of  description  when  it  is  stand 
ing  upright  in  its  proper  way;  but  it  fails  to 
impress  the  faculties  of  awe  as  deeply  as  when 
it  lies  prone.  The  height  of  an  average  room 
is  ten  feet;  the  thickness  of  this  tree  then,  as 

89 


90  ON    TIPTOE 

it  lay  before  them,  would  fill  two  stories  of  a 
house;  the  roof  of  a  bungalow  would  just  have 
been  visible  over  it;  to  mount  to  its  side  a  flight 
of  thirty  steps  would  have  been  required.  The 
little  group  stood  looking  at  it  in  the  silence  of 
awe.  Its  length  extended  at  a  long  angle  across 
the  road  and  far  into  the  forest  on  the  other  side. 
The  root  circle  stood  high  above  the  trunk, 
shaggy  with  the  wet  earth  that  clung  to  it.  The 
hole  from  which  it  had  been  torn  was  as  wide  as 
a  city  garden  plot,  and  half  full  of  water. 

"Looks  like  the  shell  hole  of  a  Big  Bertha," 
remarked  Davenport. 

"Were  you  in  France?"  demanded  Burton 
quickly. 

"I  saw  a  little  of  it." 

"How  in  time  will  they  ever  clear  that  out 
of  the  road?"  interposed  Grimstead,  who  was  fol 
lowing  his  own  line  of  thought. 

"I  think  they'll  probably  have  to  build  a  new 
road  around  it,"  suggested  the  young  man. 

Grimstead  measured  the  difficulties  with  his 
eye. 

"At  that  rate  it  will  be  some  time  before  there 
is  any  through  traffic,"  he  predicted.  "Well, 
I'll  say  further  that  you're  quite  a  woodsman, 
young  man,  to  have  spotted  this  tree  as  due  to 
take  a  tumble.  I  suppose  there  are  indications 
to  those  who  know." 


ON    TIPTOE  91 

"Cause  and  effect,"  repeated  Davenport. 

They  ventured  a  few  feet  into  the  forest  and 
saw  that  somehow,  in  spite  of  a  few  evidences 
of  fallen  limbs  or  splintered  branches,  of  matted 
brake  or  twisted  bush,  the  woodland  had  recov 
ered  marvellously  its  customary  green  softness. 
But  the  underbrush  was  still  too  water-laden  to 
tempt  them  far.  They  swung  back  into  the 
meadow  past  the  cars.  Grimstead  stared  curi 
ously  at  Davenport's  little  machine.  By  daylight 
it  looked  even  tinnier  than  ever.  In  fact  a  great 
deal  of  the  outside  shell  was  of  galvanised  con 
struction  that  had  not  been  painted. 

"Make  her  yourself?"  enquired  Grimstead. 

"Such  as  she  is,"  acknowledged  Davenport 
carelessly.  "I  didn't  use  much  pains  with  her 
looks  because  she  is  just  an  experiment.  I'm 
trying  something  out." 

"You  said  she  was  electric  driven?"  queried 
Grimstead. 

"Yes." 

"Isn't  that  a  curious  thing  for  a  man  like  you 
on  this  sort  of  a  trip?  What's  the  matter  with 
gas?" 

"Nothing  the  matter  with  gas,  except  that  it 
costs  money,  and  is  sometimes  hard  to  get." 

"And  I  suppose  charging  a  battery  costs  noth 
ing,"  struck  in  Gardiner  scornfully,  "and  there 
are  charging  stations  everywhere." 


92  ON    TIPTOE 

"Often  enough  for  my  purpose,"  rejoined 
Davenport  with  entire  good  humour. 

"I  should  think  you'd  want  more  speed  and 
power,"  observed  Grimstead. 

"Geared  as  she  is  I  can  make  fifty  an  hour 
on  a  paved  road;  and  that  means  power  for 
anything  within  reason — I  haven't  had  it  brake- 
tested;  but  it  must  develop  between  thirty-five 
and  forty-five  horsepower." 

"Your  battery  can't  have  a  long  charge-life 
at  that  rate,"  pursued  Grimstead.  "I  don't  see 
how  you  keep  charged.  How  many  hours  do 
you  make?" 

"I  don't  know;  I  haven't  determined  that  yet. 
That's  what  I'm  experimenting  on." 

Grimstead  paused  to  get  this  straight. 

"Do  I  understand  you  to  say  that  you  are 
running,  on  the  original  charging?"  he  asked, 
"that  you  have  not  recharged  since  starting?" 

"That's  it." 

"Where  did  you  start  from?  How  long  have 
you  been  out?" 

"Left  San  Rafael  about  three  weeks  ago."  He 
stooped  to  examine  a  dial.  "Been  just  eleven 
hundred  miles." 

"On  one  charge !"  exploded  Gardiner.  "You'll 
have  to  show  me!" 

Davenport  straightened  up  and  looked  at  him 
coldly. 


ON    TIPTOE  93 

"On  the  contrary,"  he  pointed  out,  "I  do  not 
have  to  show  you." 

"You  interest  me  very  much,  Mr.  Davenport," 
interposed  Grimstead,  secretly  gesturing  Gardi 
ner  to  keep  quiet.  "Among  other  things,  as 
you  perhaps  know,  I  have  very  extensive  hydro 
electric  interests,  and  am  in  consequence  some 
what  of  an  electrical  engineer.  What  you  tell 
me  indicates  that  your  new  battery — I  assume  it 
is  your  invention ;  and  that  it  is  that  feature  you 
are  trying  out?" 

Davenport  nodded. 

"Well,  if  you  really  have  a  battery  of  such 
power  and  long  life,  it  will  turn  the  storage 
battery  business  upside  down." 

The  Pirate  Chief,  like  all  good  commanders, 
was  always  ready  to  climb  himself  to  the  crow's- 
nest.  This  speck  on  the  horizon  was  probably 
a  mirage  that  would  vanish  on  nearer  approach ; 
but  there  was  just  a  remote  possibility  it  might 
be  a  galleon  heavy  with  untold  wealth.  Or,  in 
deed,  it  might  be  somewhere  between  the  ex 
tremes:  some  craft  laden  mainly  with  dreams, 
but  with  a  trifle  of  metal  ballast  worthy  of  a 
pirate's  attention.  So  like  a  prudent  chief,  he 
piped  all  hands  below  decks,  including  the  Sec 
ond  in  Command,  unlimbered  the  carronades, 
put  over  the  helm,  and  bore  down  on  the  stran 
ger. 


94  ON    TIPTOE 

"Such  a  battery,  if  it  could  be  well  proved 
out,  would  be  valuable,"  pursued  Grimstead. 
One  of  the  great  elements  in  his  success  was 
that  he  knew  better  than  to  cry  down  the  ob 
vious.  "I  confess  I  can't  imagine  the  princi- 
pie- 

"Like  to  look  at  it?"  enquired  Davenport  un 
expectedly. 

This  was  luck  Grimstead  had  not  hoped  for 
— yet.  He  assented  with  alacrity.  All  crowded 
curiously  around  while  the  young  man  raised  the 
hood. 

They  saw  what  appeared  to  be  an  ordinary 
large  electric  motor  set  across  the  frame.  In 
front  of  it  and  connected  to  it  by  two  thick 
wires  was  a  black  box  measuring  about  a  foot 
along  all  dimensions. 

"There  she  is,"  said  Davenport  cheerfully. 

"That!  Is  that  your  whole  battery?"  cried 
Grimstead,  pointing  an  incredulous  finger. 
"Why,  that  thing  wouldn't  run  a  bell  for  three 
weeks,  let  alone  a  car.  You're  joshing  me,  young 
man.  Where's  your  running  battery?  Under 
the  seat?" 

Without  reply  Davenport  raised  the  seat 
cushions  to  display  a  recess  occupied  only  by 
tools;  lifted  the  trap  door  of  the  rear  to  show 
a  nearly  empty  interior. 

"You  see,  I  have  nothing  up  my  sleeve  with 


ON    TIPTOE  95 

which    to    deceive    you,"    said    he,    jestingly. 
"There's  the  whole  works." 

He  stooped  to  disconnect  the  two  wires  and 
tucked  the  black  box  under  his  arm. 

"We  may  as  well  have  some  light  in  the  tent 
for  Miss  Grimstead,"  he  explained.  "I  have  a 
little  outfit  that  I  will  install." 

On  the  return  to  the  camp  Grimstead  fell  back 
to  consult  low- voiced  with  his  Second  in  Com 
mand. 

"What  do  you  make  of  it,  Ross?"  he  enquired. 

"He's  lying,  showing  off.  The  thing  is  im 
possible." 

"Well,  he  certainly  drove  up  last  night  from 
somewhere." 

"He  probably  lives  quite  near  and  recharges 
from  water  power." 

"Probably,"  agreed  Grimstead,  "but  even  at 
that  he's  got  something.  That  box  isn't  any 
larger  than  a  starting  battery.  We'll  have  to 
look  into  it  a  little.  A  battery  as  compact  as 
that  will  drive  others  off  the  market." 

"Provided  it  doesn't  take  too  much  care  and 
tinkering,"  agreed  Gardiner  carelessly. 

Davenport  put  everybody  to  work,  after  a 
quick  meal  had  been  improvised  and  eaten,  so 
that  by  mid-afternoon  a  comfortable  and  con 
venient  camp  had  come  into  existence.  The  tent 
had  been  moved  a  short  distance  into  a  circle  of 


96  ON    TIPTOE 

small  redwood  trees  that  stood  about  it  to  form 
a  stockade,  and  the  ground  had  been  levelled 
free  from  hummocks.  The  other  shelter  had 
been  left  where  it  was;  but  its  boundaries  had 
been  defined  by  small  logs  within  which,  so  Dav 
enport  informed  them,  the  men  were  privileged 
to  pile  as  much  soft  bedding  as  they  felt  they 
needed  and  were  able  to  find.  The  cook  fire  had 
its  proper  crevice  within  which  to  function;  and 
a  wide  space  had  been  scooped  for  the  friend 
ship  fire.  After  all  else  was  finished,  and  while 
the  others  were  having  a  fine  puttery  time  be 
stowing  their  personal  effects,  Davenport  con 
structed  with  his  axe  ingenious  and  comfortable 
backs  against  which  to  lean  while  sprawled  out 
before  the  blaze.  Then  he  departed  with  Sim- 
mins  and  Rapscallion  in  search  of  fuel.  The 
sound  of  his  axe  could  be  heard  as  he  chopped 
for  dry  heart  wood. 

By  the  time  these  things  were  all  finished  the 
sun  once  more  was  slanting  from  the  west.  Sim- 
mins,  panic-stricken,  claimed  total  ignorance  of 
camp  cookery. 

"I'll  do  it,"  stated  Davenport  briefly.  "You'll 
do  the  dishes,  run  the  errands,  get  the  water  and 
carry  in  the  wood.  I'll  chop  the  wood."  He 
looked  around  at  the  others.  "That's  the  only 
thing  I  want  you  all  to  leave  strictly  alone — the 
axe.  I'll  do  all  the  axe  work  myself." 


ON    TIPTOE  97 

"Mr.  Gardiner  and  papa  both  can  use  an  axe," 
Burton  pointed  out.  "They're  regular  lumber 
jacks.  They  won't  cut  off  a  foot." 

"I  do  not  doubt  it,"  agreed  Davenport,  "but 
if  that's  the  case,  they  understand.  It's  too  far 
to  a  grindstone.  Either  a  man  wants  to  be  en 
tirely  responsible  for  his  edge  and  do  all  the 
chopping;  or  else  do  none  of  it." 

"I'm  perfectly  willing,"  agreed  Gardiner  dis 
dainfully.  "Hard  work  is  out  of  my  line." 

Davenport  grinned. 

"Well,  I  imagine  it's  going  to  be  in  every 
body's  line  for  a  while.  How  do  you  think  we're 
going  to  get  those  cars  out  of  here  and  into 
the  road?"  He  waved  toward  the  centre  of  the 
meadow  where  the  motors  stood,  side  by  side, 
each  on  its  platform  of  laid  poles.  "We've 
got  to  build  a  road,  not  only  across  the 
meadow  but  around  that  fallen  tree.  There's 
going  to  be  quite  a  little  exercise  involved  in 
that,  I'm  thinking;  and  everybody  will  have  to 
help." 

"What  fun!"  cried  Burton. 

"It  is  fun,"  agreed  Davenport,  "to  be  up 
against  things  and  work  out  by  your  own  in 
genuity." 

"How  will  we  go  at  it?" 

"Well,  first  we'll  cut  poles  for  a  corduroy  over 
the  soft  ground." 


98  ON    TIPTOE 

"You  have  exclusive  use  of  the  axe,  I  believe," 
drawled  Gardiner. 

"The  poles  must  be  trimmed  with  the  hatchet 
and  then  carried  or  dragged  into  place,"  con 
tinued  Davenport ;  only  an  aggravated  sweetness 
of  tone  indicating  this  as  a  reply  to  Gardiner's 
comment.  "Then  when  we're  across  the  meadow, 
we'll  simply  clear  a  right-of-way  through  the 
brush,  and  corduroy  where  we  need  it.  It  won't 
be  much  of  a  road,  but  it  will  get  us  out.  We 
will  start  to-morrow  morning." 

"It'll  be  a  lot  simpler  to  have  Simmins  hike 
out  as  soon  as  the  road  dries  a  little  and  bring 
in  a  force  of  men,"  growled  Gardiner. 

"Yes,  that  can  be  done,"  agreed  Davenport, 
"if  you  want  to  lose  this  chance." 

"Chance?  Chance  of  what?"  struck  in  Grim- 
stead  interestedly. 

"Chance  of  showing  yourself  you  can  take 
care  of  yourself  no  matter  what  happens,"  re 
plied  Davenport  with  a  faint  shade  of  contempt ; 
"chance  of  proving  you've  not  grown  fast  to  an 
electric  button;  chance  of  sweating  a  little  on 
some  good,  hard  constructive  work  for  a  pur 
pose;  chance  of  being  up  against  it  and  getting 
out  of  it  by  your  own  effort.  Aren't  many  of 
those  chances  these  days.  Don't  you  get  any 
fun  out  of  that  sort  of  thing?" 


ON    TIPTOE  99 

"Can't  say  I  do,"  returned  Gardiner  unim 
pressed. 

"Well,  that's  too  bad,"  commiserated  Daven 
port.  "Because  it's  really  quite  a  lark  to  meet 
difficulties.  Especially  is  it  too  bad  when  you 
have  to  do  it  anyway." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  asked  Grim- 
stead,  who  was  following  this  by-play  with  con 
siderable  inward  relish. 

"Why,  this,"  returned  Davenport.  "Simmiiis 
would  walk  twenty  miles — good  hard  miles  that 
would  take  him  all  day — and  he'd  get  to  Teco- 
lote.  Tecolote  has  a  general  store  and  post 
office;  a  boarding  house  or  hotel;  and  the  public 
garage.  It  is  situated  on  the  cross  roads  that 
go  from  Soquel  to  Morro,  on  the  coast.  There 
are  three  small  houses  in  patches  of  garden." 

The  young  man  paused  to  light  his  pipe. 

"Simmins  arrives,  footsore  and  weary — I  be 
lieve  that's  the  way  they  always  arrive — and, 
like  a  good  soldier,  he  thinks  first  of  duty  and 
goes  to  the  garage.  He  will  find  it  a  good-size 
affair  of  corrugated  iron  with  a  dirt  floor  con 
taining  about  six  disreputable-looking  cars,  a 
bewildering  mess  of  junk  iron,  a  forge,  an  an 
vil,  a  work  bench,  and  a  tall,  fat,  profane  man. 
There  may  be  one  or  two  others  present — I  don't 
know — but  the  tall,  fat,  profane  man  will  be 


100  ON    TIPTOE 

the  one  to  whom  Simmins  will  unfold  his  mov 
ing  tale.  And,  believe  me,  before  the  tall,  fat 
and  profane  man — whose  name  is  Tom — gets 
through  with  him,  he  will  have  all  of  the  afore 
said  moving  tale!  He  is  possessed  of  a  mono- 
maniacal  desire  to  get  to  the  bedrock  bottom  of 
all  situations;  and  all  the  necessary  qualifica 
tions  for  doing  so.  Simmins  may  start  with  the 
full  intention  of  luring  him  out  by  telling  him 
merely  of  a  towing  job;  but  before  he  has  been 
ten  minutes  among  those  present  he  will  have 
conveyed  an  accurate  picture  of  our  situation  and 
personnel.  I'm  not  arguing  about  this;  I'm  tell 
ing  you.  When  he  quite  understands,  Tom  will 
tower  over  Simmins  and  discourse  as  follows: — 
no,  not  as  follows;  I  forgot  Miss  Grimstead's 
presence." 

"Don't  mind  me,"  urged  Burton.  "I've  been 
a  debutante  and  am  used  to  a  rough  life." 

"No.  Tom  is  as  profane  as  he  is  tall  and  fat. 
But  he  will  discourse  approximately  as  follows: 

"  'You  poor  attenuated  simulacrum  of  the 
manly  virtues,'  he  will  say,  'why  in  the  abode  of 
the  preordained  condemned  phantasmagoria  of 
mediaeval  religious  belief  don't  you  bring  in  your 
own  car?  Are  you  all  afflicted  with  infantile 
paralysis?  Are  you  victims  of  ossification  of  the 
cranial  cavity?  Why  do  you  come  bothering 
me?' 


ON    TIPTOE  101 

"And  then  Tom  will  enumerate  seriatim 
twenty-eight  jobs  demanding  his  immediate  and 
constant  attention.  He  will  probably  end  by 
telling  Simmins  of  a  good  winter  resort  and 
advising  him  to  proceed  thither  without  de- 

lay." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Grimstead,  who  was 
laughing  heartily,  "but  Simmins  would  be 
authorised  to  offer  any  pay  whatever  within 
reason — money-no-object  idea." 

"Tom — regrettable  as  it  may  be — is  little 
swayed  by  thoughts  of  pelf  when  he  has  his  dan 
der  up.  And  Tom's  dander  is  positively  self- 
rising  when  he  envisions  a — pardon  me,  but  the 
words  are  his — grown-up  he-man  without  guts 
enough  to  help  himself.  At  such  times  the  glitter 
of  gold  is  nothing  in  Tom's  life." 

"I  think  Mr.  Grimstead's  name  would  have 
some  weight,  even  with  such  a  person  as  you  de 
scribe,"  said  Gardiner  with  quiet  confidence. 

Davenport  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 

"Following  Simmins'  ill-received  offer  of 
bribery,"  he  continued  to  visualise  his  imaginary 
scene,  "he  would  adduce  the  consideration  just 
referred  to.  'Grimstead,'  he  would  roar,  'is  it 
that  old  lying,  sneaking,  bull-dozing,  land-grab 
bing,  robbing  usurper  of  the  public  domain?  I 
wouldn't  go  an  inch  to  pull  him  out  of  hell!'  and 
then  he'd  throw  Simmins  out  on  his  neck." 


>02  ON    TIPTOE 

Grimstead's  bushy  eyebrows  had  drawn  to 
gether  and  his  eyes  flashed  lightnings. 

"You  are  insulting,  young  man,"  he  warned. 

"Not  I,"  replied  Davenport  cheerfully.  "I'm 
just  telling  you  what  Tom  would  say.  I  know 
him  and  his  methods  pretty  well.  Point  is,  the 
old  cuss  would  work  all  night  in  a  rainstorm  to 
get  us  out  if  we  were  helpless,  but  he  wouldn't 
raise  his  hand  to  do  anything  we  could  do  our 
selves/' 

"There  must  be  others  available,"  growled 
Grimstead,  still  ruffled. 

"No;  there  aren't,"  replied  Davenport,  drop 
ping  his  extravagant  manner;  "not  near  enough 
to  be  available,  within  reason.  It's  much  sim 
pler  to  do  it  ourselves.  It's  not  a  serious  job." 

Grimstead  happened  to  look  aside  at  this  mo 
ment  to  see  Gardiner  glance  at  his  long,  well-kept 
hands.  A  sardonic  gleam  crossed  his  eyes. 

"You're  right,  Davenport,"  he  said,  "and  as 
you  say,  it  will  be  fun." 


CHAPTER  X 

'  6T  71  TELL,  this  is  something  like !"  cried  Grim- 
V  V  stead  as  he  lowered  himself  to  a  cushion 
of  aromatic  boughs  at  just  the  right  distance  from 
a  leaping  camp  fire.  He  was  well-fed,  and  warm 
and  dry,  and  pleasantly  tired  after  the  mild  exer 
cise  he  had  been  forced  to  take.  "Gardiner,  I 
don't  know  why  we  didn't  think  of  this  ourselves, 
before  we  got  our  noses  rubbed  in  it."  He  glanced 
about  the  scene  with  satisfaction.  Everything 
was  trim  and  shipshape,  just  the  way  he  liked 
to  see  things.  The  coals  of  the  cooking  fire 
glowed  tidily  beneath  a  kettle  of  beans — a  sen 
sible,  well-behaved  little  fire  that  one  could  work 
about  without  scorching.  Utensils  hung  handily 
from  wooden  pegs  driven  into  the  soft  bark  of 
a  tree.  The  ground  was  free  of  bumps,  roots 
and  hummocks  and  was  evenly  carpeted  with  fir 
boughs.  Between  the  trunks  of  the  trees  the 
tent,  within  which  Burton  was  moving  around, 
could  be  seen  glowing  like  a  moon  or  a  huge, 
frosted  lantern.  The  real  moon  walked  through 
hushed  aisles  of  the  forest,  turning  solid  realities 
to  the  insubstantial,  fragile  silver  filigree  of  en 
chantment.  Rapscallion  slumbered  ridiculously 

103 


104  ON    TIPTOE 

near  the  fire.  Punketty-Snivvles,  who  was  a 
clever  little  devil  in  spite  of  all,  having  in  the 
course  of  a  single  day  realised  his  fall  from  his 
high  estate,  and  having  become  undemanding 
and  unobtrusive,  sat  a  few  paces  away  adoring 
Rapscallion.  He  had  essayed  in  turn  arrogance, 
yapping  insult,  and  an  ingratiating  playfulness, 
to  none  of  which  had  the  terrier  paid  the  small 
est  attention.  Punketty-Snivvles  might  have 
been  made  of  thin  air.  So  at  last  Punketty- 
Snivvles  became  a  hero  worshipper.  He  fol 
lowed  Rapscallion  slavishly  about,  trying  in  a 
puny,  futile  fashion  to  copy  his  raffish  rough  and 
ready  manners,  hoping  mightily  for  some  atten 
tion;  and  when,  as  now,  the  marvel  slept,  Punk 
etty-Snivvles  deprived  himself  of  needed  sleep 
to  sit,  a  sliver  of  imbecile  pink  tongue  showing, 
worshipping  with  humble  heart.  Thus  did  Punk 
etty-Snivvles  at  last  take  the  initial  steps  of  the 
Climb ;  and  acquire  his  first  Merit. 

Simmins,  on  the  other  side,  was  doing  the 
same  thing  toward  his  new  hero,  though  he  did 
not  stick  out  his  tongue. 

"Young  man,"  began  Grimstead  in  a  large, 
paternal  manner,  blowing  the  first  cloud  from 
his  cigar,  "where  is  your  shop?  San  Rafael,  did 
you  say?" 

"My  shop? — oh,  Sausalito,"  replied  Daven 
port. 


ON    TIPTOE  105 

"Do  a  pretty  good  business  ?" 

"It  makes  me  a  living." 

"I  suppose  you  could  use  a  little  more." 

"Who  couldn't?" 

"A  little  additional  capital  might  enable  you 
to  expand  to  advantage." 

"Additional  capital,"  said  Davenport  unex 
pectedly,  with  a  grin,  "wouldn't  enable  me  to  ex 
pand  an  inch." 

"But  you  just  said  you  could  use  more  money." 

"That's  different." 

"I  don't  see  how  it's  different,"  said  Grim- 
stead  a  little  impatiently,  "but  it  doesn't  matter. 
I  like  your  style,  young  man.  You're  a  live  wire, 
and  it's  a  principle  of  mine  to  connect  with  live 
wires.  It  crossed  my  mind  that  if  you  needed 
a  little — buy  in  a  share,  you  understand.  Of 
course  on  investigation — " 

"So  you  are  interested  in  my  battery,  after 
all,"  said  Davenport. 

Grimstead  stared  at  him,  then  threw  back  his 
head  and  laughed. 

"Keno!"  he  acknowledged.  "At  least  I'm  in 
terested  in  what  you  say  about  your  battery. 
The  State  of  Missouri  isn't  big  enough  to  hold 
me  when  it  comes  to  what  you  claim  for  it.  I 
shrewdly  suspect  that  in  that  you're  trying  to 
spoof  me,  as  Willie  Smeed  would  say.  But  it's 
obvious  you've  come  from  somewhere,  and  it's 


106  ON    TIPTOE 

obvious  that  little  battery  brought  you.  Even 
if  it's  only  five  or  ten  miles,  and  you  expect  to 
get  home  again,  you've  got  something  big." 

"Of  course,"  Davenport  pointed  out,  "I 
haven't  tried  to  sell  you  anything,  nor  make  you 
believe  anything.  And  I  don't  suppose,  in  view 
of  your  technical  knowledge,  I  would  have  any 
right  to  resent  your  doubting  my  word.  Never 
theless,  I  repeat  that  with  that  battery  as  my  sole 
motive  power  I  have  driven  about  eleven  hun 
dred  miles." 

"Without  recharging?"  demanded  Gardiner. 

"Without  recharging,"  repeated  Davenport. 

A  polite  but  restrained  silence  succeeded  this 
remark.  There  really  seemed  nothing  further 
for  either  Grimstead  or  Gardiner  to  say,  except 
you're  a  liar;  which  in  the  circumstances  seemed 
hardly  tactful.  Davenport  himself  relieved  the 
situation. 

"Don't  feel  embarrassed!"  he  laughed.  "Say 
it  if  you  want  to;  I  won't  be  offended.  It  may 
relieve  your  minds.  There's  no  way  to  prove 
it  to  you  right  now,  so  there's  no  sense  worrying 
about  it." 

"Pardon  me,"  put  in  Gardiner  suavely,  "I 
think  your  statement  could  be  at  least  partially 
tested  with  the  facilities  at  hand." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Davenport. 

"I  mean  that  if  you  are  willing  to  allow  your 


ON    TIPTOE  107 

battery  to  carry  a  load  for  any  specified  length 
of  time,  I  can  arrange  the  load." 

"If  it's  not  beyond  the  power  of  my  battery, 
go  to  it,"  agreed  Davenport.  "I  figure  she'll 
give  about  forty  horsepower." 

"That  is  more  than  ample.    For  how  long?" 

"Long  as  you  like — until  we  get  out  of  here, 
if  you  please.  Of  course  that's  subject  to  Miss 
Burton's  use  of  it  for  her  lights." 

Grimstead,  who  had  been  watching  Daven 
port's  face  as  he  was  accustomed  to  watch  a 
poker  opponent's,  raised  his  voice. 

"Burton,  come  here!"  he  roared.  Then  as  the 
girl  appeared  in  the  circle  of  firelight,  "Can  you 
get  along  with  candles?  Can  you  let  us  have 
that  battery?" 

"Why,  if  necessary,  of  course.  What  is  the 
idea?"  * 

"This  young  man  agrees  that  it  will  perform 
some  test  Ross  has  up  his  sleeve  continuously 
until  we  go  away." 

"Of  course  I  can  use  candles!"  cried  the  girl, 
her  eyes  lighting  up.  "Is  it  another  bet?" 

"I'm  willing,"  said  Davenport,  "doubles  or 
quits.  Is  it  a  bet?" 

"No,  not,  and  emphatically  far  otherwise!" 
stated  Grimstead.  "Not  so  far  as  I'm  concerned, 
though  I  won't  stand  in  Ross's  way  to  getting 
back  his  money." 


108  ON    TIPTOE 

"I  don't  bet  that  heavily  against  another  man's 
game,"  said  Gardiner,  "but  I  do  know  something 
of  electrical  possibilities,  and  I'm  ready  to  put 
up  a  reasonable  amount,  say  five  hundred,  that 
I  can  produce  a  legitimate  test  right  here,  and 
that  this  thing  won't  stand  up  under  it.  It  is 
understood  that  my  test  must  be  met,  and  that 
the  time  limit  is  four  days." 

"Well,  that's  rather  an  'unsight  unseen'  prop 
osition  itself,"  rejoined  Davenport.  "But  just 
to  show  you  I'm  a  sport  I'll  go  you,  provided 
that  it  is  not  beyond  the  strength  of  the  battery. 
Its  endurance  within  its  strength  is  all  I  claim." 

"What  I  propose,"  said  Gardiner,  "is  that  the 
terminals  of  this  battery  be  connected  with  the 
self-starter  of  our  car;  and  the  starting  pedal 
be  locked  down.  Then  the  battery,  through  the 
self-starter,  will  be  turning  over  the  engine 
against  the  compression.  I  don't  know  the  exact 
power  required,  but  it  is  considerable.  To-mor 
row  I  will  compute  it  exactly.  It  is  sufficient  to 
exhaust  the  ordinary  starting  battery  in  from  ten 
to  twenty  minutes." 

"That's  ingenious,"  acknowledged  Davenport, 
"but  it's  going  to  be  as  noisy  as  a  street  car. 
It's  going  to  destroy  our  peace  and  quiet;  and 
will  end  by  getting  on  our  nerves,  I'm  afraid." 

"It's  begun  by  getting  your  nerve,  I'm  afraid," 
sneered  Gardiner. 


ON    TIPTOE  109 

"Pshaw,"  rejoined  Davenport  impatiently, 
"I'm  not  speaking  for  myself;  I  can  stand  it. 
I'm  thinking  of  the  peace  and  quiet  of  a  per 
fectly  good  and  charming  camp.  After  all,  tests 
can  be  applied  at  any  time." 

Gardiner  leaned  back  with  a  triumphant 
glance  at  his  chief. 

"Oh!"  cried  Burton,  indignant.  "You  aren't 
going  to  give  up  like  that!  Were  you  bluffing? 
I  didn't  think  you'd  do  that!" 

"I  wasn't  bluffing,"  said  Davenport  quietly. 

"Then  do  it!" 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  suggested  the  young  man, 
"there's  no  use  getting  excited  or  disagreeable 
about  it.  Let's  be  reasonable.  To-morrow 
morning  we  will  move  camp  upstream  a  little 
to  get  away  from  the  racket,  and  then  we'll  start 
her  up.  There's  no  sense  in  spoiling  our  night's 
rest.  Stay  an  extra  day  if  you  want  to;  it's 
worth  it." 

"I'll  agree  to  that,"  acquiesced  Gardiner  after 
a  moment,  "as  far  as  the  general  camp  is  con 
cerned.  But  personally  I  stipulate  to  stay  here 
within  sound  of  the  motor." 

Burton  exclaimed  indignantly;  but  Davenport 
was  unperturbed. 

"Well,"  said  he  cheerfully,  "you  encourage  me. 
A  little  while  ago  the  battery  couldn't  last  over 
ten  or  twenty  minutes;  and  now  it's  night-time 


110  ON    TIPTOE 

already!  I'll  agree  you  shall  stay  here,  if  you 
want  to,  provided  Simmins  stays  too." 

"Simmins!"  exclaimed  Gardiner.  "Why 
should  Simmins  stay  here?" 

"For  the  same  reason  you  do,"  replied  Dav 
enport  blandly;  "just  to  hear  the  motor  go." 

"Well,"  sighed  Grimstead  after  a  moment, 
"this  trip  certainly  promises  to  be  interesting, 
and  I'm  glad  I  came.  If  the  thing  works  even 
partially  as  you  say  it  does,  you  must  have  a 
brand-new  principle  in  battery  construction. 
The  old  principles  have  been  carried  to  the  ut 
most  of  refinement  and  have  not  resulted  in  this 
compactness  and  efficiency." 

"Alleged,"  drawled  Gardiner. 

"It  is  a  new  principle,"  said  Davenport,  pay 
ing  no  attention  to  the  interjection.  "Would  you 
like  to  hear  about  it?" 

Grimstead  put  on  his  poker  face  to  conceal 
his  inner  excitement.  This  offer  was  more  than 
he  had  hoped. 

"I  should  like  to  very  much,"  he  replied. 

"So  should  I,"  spoke  up  Burton,  "but  I  want 
to  hear  it  in  words  of  one  syllable." 

"It's  not  at  all  complicated.  Now  you  know 
if  you  put  a  copper  plate  and  a  zinc  plate  side 
by  side  in  an  acid  solution,  and  connect  them  with 
wires  you  generate  electricity.  That  is  the  simple 
wet  battery. 


ON    TIPTOE  111 

"All  right.  If  you  run  a  dynamo  you  also 
generate  electricity,  this  time  by  induction. 

"Where  does  that  electricity  come  from?  You 
might  say  chemical  action  in  the  one  case  or 
mechanical  action  in  the  other;  but  they  are  ac 
tually  only  a  means  to  an  end.  The  world  lies 
in  a  great  field  of  static  or  inert  magnetism. 
The  cell  and  the  dynamo  are  merely  means  by 
which  this  inert  electricity  is  livened  up,  made 
into  kinetic  or  active  electricity;  they  actually 
produce  nothing  in  themselves.  Is  that  clear?" 

"Perfectly,"  said  Burton. 

"When  we  have  used  this  kinetic  electricity, 
or  it  becomes  'grounded,'  it  returns  to  the  reser 
voir  of  static.  All  the  electric  lights  you  have 
in  your  house,  for  example,  are  manifestations 
of  the  static  electricity — which  is  everywhere — 
made  available  for  use  by  means  of  a  rather 
clumsy  and  cumbersome  apparatus  involving  me 
chanical  power  and  dynamos  and  all  the  rest  of 
it.  All  I've  done  is  to  make  a  short  cut  between 
the  static  electricity  in  which  we  are  immersed 
and  the  kinetic  electricity  we  can  use." 

"That  is  self-evident,  young  man,"  remarked 
Grimstead  drily. 

"I  am  just  making  it  clear  for  Miss  Burton. 

"Go  back  to  the  wet  cell.  It  is  heavy  and 
awkward  and  short  lived.  My  battery  is  just 
like  a  wet  cell  without  those  disadvantages.  The 


112  ON    TIPTOE 

wet  cell  consists  of  two  plates  of  different  metal 
in  a  solution.  Mine  consists  of  two  plates  of  dif 
ferent  metals  side  by  side  in  air.  The  wet  cell 
transforms  or  produces  its  electricity  by  or 
through  a  chemical  action  that  is  limited  in  effec 
tiveness  and  in  duration.  My  battery  transforms 
the  static  from  the  air  into  kinetic  without  chem 
ical  action — apparently;  and  in  much  greater 
quantity  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  plates. 
It's  a  short  cut,  as  I  said — I'm  talking  like  a 
school  teacher!  However,  that's  the  general 
idea." 

Grimstead  was  sitting  up  now  in  his  interest. 

"There  must  be  chemical  action!"  he  cried. 
"You  can't  lift  yourself  by  your  bootstraps." 

"Of  course;  there  probably  is,"  agreed  Daven 
port.  "I  only  said  there  was  apparently  none. 
It  must  be  very  slight — like  the  apparent  loss  in 
radium,  I  suppose — for  as  I  say,  I  have  used  this 
battery  to  drive  my  car  eleven  hundred  miles 
without  any  wear  I  can  determine  by  looking 
at  it." 

"What  metals  do  you  use?5' 

"Pardon,"  returned  the  young  man,  "but 
there,  of  course,  you're  asking  my  secret.  I  will 
say  this,  however.  They  are  alloys  of  metals 
easily  procurable.  The  alloy  must  be  exact  and 
the  distance  between  the  plates  must  be  exact. 
I  have  a  micrometer  screw;  to  adjust  my  plates." 


ON    TIPTOE  113 

"You  say  the  metals  are  easily  procurable. 
How  much  do  you  estimate  it  cost  you  to  build 
such  a  battery?" 

"Mine  up  to  now  have  been  experimental  and 
built  piecemeal  by  experiment,"  Davenport 
pointed  out.  "But  in  quantity  they  could  be 
built — of  that  size — for  somewhere  between  fifty 
and  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  It  isn't  the 
materials;  it's  the  accuracy,  and  I  don't  know 
just  what  workmen  of  the  necessary  skill  would 
cost." 

Grimstead's  poker  face  was  still  doing  busi 
ness,  but  his  cigar  butt  was  chewed  to  a  frazzle. 

"You  say  that  battery  there  will  run  a  brake 
test  of  forty  horsepower?"  he  asked. 

"About  that." 

"Will  a  larger  battery  develop  more  horse 
power  in  proportion?  What  are  the  limits  in 
capacity?" 

"I  haven't  the  slightest  idea.  I  never  built  but 
two,  and  they  are  of  the  same  size.  I  do  know 
they  will  work  tandem  though,  for  I  drove  some 
of  the  machinery  of  a  little  saw  mill  with  them 
for  a  day  or  two.  As  far  as  I  know  there  is  no 
reason  why  you  shouldn't  put  a  hundred  of  them 
in  a  row.  There's  no  limit  apparently  to  the 
amount  of  static  you  can  take  by  means  of  dyna 
mos;  why  should  there  be  any  more  limit  to 
what  you  can  take  by  other  means?  Of  course, 


114  ON    TIPTOE 

I  don't  know;  I'm  just  beginning  to  try  it  out." 

"Well,  you  may  have  something,  though  it 
sounds  pretty  radical,"  yawned  Grimstead,  drop 
ping  prone  as  though  the  subject  had  ceased  to 
interest  him.  "As  I  get  it,  we  all  go  to  work 
to-morrow  morning,  and  get  the  afternoon  off. 
Is  that  it,  Boss?" 

"That's  it,"  replied  Davenport. 

"How  about  those  rainbow?  Think  they'll  be 
hungry  by  afternoon?" 

"You  might  try  them  with  grubs;  or  a  Colo 
rado  spinner.  Never  can  tell." 

Burton  hopped  from  the  log. 

"The  moonlight  is  heavenly,"  she  declared,  "I 
must  see  it  through  the  big  trees.  Will  you  go 
with  me,  Mr.  Davenport,  outside  the  firelight?" 

Davenport  jumped  to  his  feet.  Gardiner  too 
stirred  as  though  about  to  arise,  but  paused  as 
he  felt  Grimstead's  restraining  hand  on  his  arm. 
The  two  young  people  stepped  out  into  the  en 
chantment  of  the  forest. 


CHAPTER  XI 

walked  for  a  hundred  yards,  feeling 
JL  their  way  in  the  black  and  white  contrasts  of 
moonlight ;  then  sat  side  by  side  on  the  trunk  of  a 
small  fir  tree  uprooted  by  the  gale.  There  was 
nothing  to  say ;  there  could  be  nothing  to  say  in 
the  presence  of  moonlit  night  in  the  redwoods. 
What  we  in  the  busy  world  would  call  the  in 
tangibles — majesty,  awe,  peace,  calm  aloofness, 
and  shivery,  ecstatic,  fragile  poetry — here  be 
came  real  forces  that  ever  flowed  and  would 
ever  flow  world  without  end.  The  little  human 
consciousness  must  perforce  lift  and  blend  to  the 
mighty  stream.  Burton  and  the  young  man  sub 
mitted  to  the  spell.  It  submerged  their  spirits, 
and  dissolved  them  and  expanded  them,  until 
they  had  ceased  to  be  tight  and  huddled  with 
little  affairs  and  tiny  details,  and  rose  to  con 
tain  and  be  contained  by  these  greater  things. 

At  last  Burton  sighed  and  stirred. 

"It  is  almost  too  perfect,"  she  said.  "It  almost 
hurts.  But  I  shall  never  forget  it." 

The  required  change  had  come  into  their  souls. 
The  Invisibles  withdrew  a  little  space.  They  be 
gan  to  chat,  to  make  disjointed  remarks,  swing- 

115 


116  ON    TIPTOE 

ing  back  down  the  wide  arc  of  ecstasy  to  the  start 
ing  point  of  every-day  things.  In  a  little  while 
Davenport  was  talking  eagerly,  openly.  The 
subject  was  his  battery. 

"I  don't  like  to  say  so  very  openly,  people 
are  apt  to  think  you  a  silly  ass  if  you  get  en 
thusiastic,  but  I'm  very  keen  on  that,"  he  con 
fessed. 

"I  think  it's  wonderful,"  she  encouraged.  "I 
don't  know  much  about  such  things;  but  I  do 
know  Dad,  and  when  he's  enthusiastic  about  any 
thing,  it's  apt  to  be  valuable." 

"Do  you  think  he's  enthusiastic?"  wondered 
Davenport.  "I  didn't  observe  many  symptoms." 

"I  know  Dad,"  she  repeated. 

"Well,  I  hope  he  is.  I  believe  he's  just  the 
man  to  help." 

"It  ought  to  be  tremendously  valuable.  You'll 
probably  make  a  million  or  so  out  of  it.  I  hope 
you  do." 

"Yes,  of  course.  I'd  like  to  make  something 
out  of  it.  But  that  isn't  the  real  point.  Do  you 
mind  if  I  talk  a  little  about  it?" 

"Oh,  please!"  she  begged. 

"Don't  you  see  what  it  will  mean  to  the  world," 
he  said,  "the  poor  struggling  old  world?  Lord, 
how  it  does  work!  What  a  burden  it  does  carry! 
How  it  does  struggle!  All  its  energy  is  con 
sumed  just  in  feeding  itself  and  clothing  itself 


ON    TIPTOE  117 

and  keeping  itself  warm.  And  it  has  to  hustle 
just  to  do  that."  He  twisted  on  the  log  more 
nearly  to  face  her.  "Look  here,"  he  demanded, 
"what  is  the  greatest  material  need,  the  very 
greatest  need  of  the  world?" 

"Davenport's  batteries,"  she  replied  promptly. 

He  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  boyishly. 

"I  was  getting  preachy,  wasn't  I?  Well,  the 
thing  the  world  needs  most  is  breathing-time, 
time  to  play  more  and  to  soak  up  the  things  that 
never  come  to  a  man  when  he's  in  a  hurry  or 
surrounded  by  the  buzz-flies  of  detail.  What  the 
work-a-day  world  needs  most  is  leisure,  a  little 
leisure." 

His  laughing  face  had  become  grave,  and  his 
dancing  eyes  level. 

"Until  the  pressure  of  material  necessities  is 
lifted  a  little  from  lives  the  human  race  is  going 
to  be  lop-sided.  Only  with  leisure  can  come  the 
greater,  leavening,  quiet  influences  of  the  spirit 
that  will  make  life  balanced." 

"The  trouble  is,"  said  Burton,  "people  are 
never  satisfied.  If  they'd  be  contented  to  go 
without  so  many  frills  they'd  have  leisure 
enough." 

"No,  you're  wrong.  They  should  have  the 
frills.  The  frills  represent  the  grace  and  beauty 
of  life.  We  all  have  an  instinct  for  frills;  and 
real  instincts  should  be  gratified — in  proportion. 


118  ON    TIPTOE 

But  the  point  is,  frills  are  too  hard  to  get.  A 
living  is  too  hard  to  get.  Heaven  forfend  we 
should  ever  get  anything  without  working  for 
it;  that  is  absolutely  fatal.  But  there's  no  sense 
in  having  to  perform  soul-deadening  and  grind 
ing  toil  for  it." 

"I  have  all  the  frills;  I  never  work  for  them," 
challenged  Burton  suddenly.  "What  about 
me?" 

"You  are  young  and  the  field  of  your  life  is 
yet  in  the  distance,"  replied  Davenport  slowly 
and  soberly.  "You  have  had  gifts;  but  it  is  not 
yet  the  time  for  you  to  know  that  every  gift  bears 
its  responsibility." 

"I— I'm  afraid  I've  never  thought  of  that," 
faltered  Burton  in  rather  a  stifled  voice  after  a 
moment.  "But  what  has  the  battery  to  do  with 
this?" 

"Why,  don't  you  see?  Every  invention  that 
reduces  the  labour  necessary  to  produce  things  is 
a  step  toward  that  leisure  for  the  race.  It's  a 
step  toward  supplying  more  frills,  besides  more 
abundant  necessities,  with  the  same  amount  of 
labour." 

"Yes,  I  can  see  that,"  acknowledged  Burton. 
She  was  just  the  least  bit  disappointed  at  so 
prosaic  a  culmination  to  an  argument  that  had 
aroused  her  imagination.  But  his  next  words  re 
kindled  her. 


ON    TIPTOE  119 

"And  this  little  battery,  multiplied  a  million 
times,"  went  on  Davenport,  "means  power; 
power  direct,  without  the  human  toil  and  labour 
now  necessary  to  produce  it.  Just  stop  a  second 
and  think  what  is  necessary  now  before  we  move 
an  inch  toward  actual  production  of  the  few 
necessaries  and  the  many  frills  we  would  like  to 
have.  Thousands  of  men  work  underground 
digging  coal;  thousands  more  are  transporting  it, 
handling  it,  placing  it  under  boilers.  An  army 
is  digging  or  conducting  oil  wells;  another  is 
chopping  wood;  still  another  is  building  dams 
for  water  power.  And  think  still  further  of  the 
vast  numbers  who  manufacture  and  handle  and 
deliver  the  implements  and  instruments  by  which 
these  raw  materials  of  power  are  turned  into 
the  power  itself — steam  engines,  dynamos  and 
all  the  rest.  It's  tremendous!" 

Her  eyes  were  wide,  staring  unseeing  down 
the  moonlit  aisles.  She  was  seeing — imperfectly, 
for  her  experience  could  not  furnish  the  requisite 
materials  to  her  incandescent  imagination — these 
swarms  of  liberated  men,  coming  up  grimed  from 
underground,  from  the  factories,  from  the  ends 
of  the  earth,  dropping  the  obsolete  toils  of  a 
clumsy  circumvention. 

"Millions  of  them,"  repeated  Davenport,  "re 
leased  for  the  production  of  that  which  our  bodies 
and  our  souls  actually  consume." 


120  ON    TIPTOE 

She  was  staggered,  troubled  by  the  immensity 
of  the  detailed  problem  of  all  these  men. 

"They'd  lose  their  jobs,"  she  objected.  "Could 
they  get  others?" 

"It  would  mean  a  big  readjustment,"  ac 
knowledged  Davenport,  "but  you  must  remem 
ber  that  it  would  not  happen  all  at  once.  And 
every  big  change  means  a  readjustment.  The 
history  of  industry  is  full  of  such  readjustments. 
Every  invention  that  has  reduced  the  amount 
of  labour  necessary  to  produce  any  given  thing 
has  caused  such  a  readjustment.  Just  look  at 
the  things  done  now  by  machinery  that  were  done 
by  hand  a  hundred  years  ago.  Look  at  the  row 
the  cotton  gin  made,  or  weaving  machinery. 
Same  thing  on  a  smaller  scale.  In  the  long 


run—" 


"Yes,  the  long  run,"  she  agreed,  "but  the 
present,  the  immediate  present  is  what  I  am 
thinking  of." 

"It  would  mean  a  readjustment,"  he  acknowl 
edged  again,  "and  it  would  mean  hardship  and 
sacrifice  in  some  cases.  It  is  by  hardship  and 
sacrifice  always  that  the  great  things  of  the  world 
are  bought.  There  is  hardship  and  sacrifice  in 
war,  but  men  undergo  it  gladly  for  a  cause. 
There  is  hardship  and  sacrifice  in  pushing  out 
into  a  wilderness.  But  always  when  the  hardship 


ON    TIPTOE  121 

and  sacrifice  are  past,  the  world  has  advanced. 
It  is  an  honour  to  have  been  chosen." 

"I  doubt  if  the  coal  miner  out  of  a  job  would 
appreciate  that  fact,"  she  proposed,  smiling  a 
little  whimsically,  a  little  tenderly,  at  his  exalted 
face  in  the  moonlight.  "It  would  look  to  him 
an  undeserved  injustice." 

"Who  of  us  does  appreciate  our  real  benefits?" 
replied  Davenport. 

"Benefits?"  she  repeated  doubtfully. 

"Yes,  our  chances." 

"I  don't  believe  I  understand." 

"Our  chances  to  go  ahead.  The  thing  done  for 
ourselves  at  the  expense  of  others  sets  us  back; 
the  thing  done  for  ourselves  without  harm  to 
others  sets  us  forward  a  little  way;  the  thing 
done  for  others  really  helps  us  on." 

"I  seem  to  remember  cases  where  people  have 
prospered  amazingly  at  the  expense  of  others," 
she  said,  still  a  little  quizzically. 

He  stared  at  her  in  open  amazement. 

"Good  Lord!"  he  cried.  "You  aren't  one  of 
those  people  who  thinks  that  all  development  and 
all  evolution  for  all  eternity  are  started  and  fin 
ished  for  keeps  in  this  earth  phase  of  our  exist 
ence!" 

"What  do  you  believe  about  it?"  she  countered. 

"I  know  very  little  of  what  I  believe.     It's 


122  ON    TIPTOE 

too  big  for  me ;  or  any  one  else.  But  I  do  know 
a  few  things.  I  know  that  when  I  get  out  of 
here  I  shall  go  right  on  working  and  right  on 
developing  through  work.  And  I  do  know  that 
every  time  an  opportunity  comes  along  and  I 
side-step  it,  or  deliberately  do  the  wrong  thing, 
that  opportunity  starts  at  once  bearing  com 
pound  interest  against  me.  Some  day  I'll  have 
to  pay  up  both  that  opportunity  and  the  com 
pound  interest.  No,  I  don't  know  how.  I?ve 
got  a  lot  of  beliefs;  but  those  are  the  only  two 
things  I  really  know" 

A  little  wind  came  wandering.  The  girl  shiv 
ered. 

"It's— it's  a  terrible  thought,"  she  faltered. 

He  laughed. 

"Why,  no;  it's  a  very  inspiring  thought,"  he 
said.  "But  we're  talking  like  a  prof,  in  ethics. 
Point  is  that  even  though  the  readjustment  to  a 
world  of  direct  power  will  be  an  uneasy  one,  the 
end  will  be  worth  it.  Listen:  have  you  stopped 
to  think  even  a  little  in  detail  what  that  will  mean 
to  human  kind?  The  burden  of  brutish  toil 
lifted?  The  lighter,  pleasanter,  more  graceful 
burden  of  wholly  creative  labour  substituted?" 

He  leaned  forward,  and  in  his  eagerness  his 
boyish,  laughing  face  became  grave  and  mature. 
With  vivid  sentences  he  sketched  the  world  as 
he  saw  it:  a  reorganised  world,  free  to  put  all 


ON    TIPTOE 

its  energies  into  the  positive  creation  of  those 
things  which  men's  true  instincts  crave ;  produc 
ing  its  abundance  by  honest,  sincere,  necessary 
labour,  but  accomplishing  the  production  without 
the  exhaustion  of  squalor.  It  was  no  impossible 
utopia;  it  was  no  absurd  dream  of  an  impossible 
"equality" ;  but  it  was  a  world  of  opportunity  re 
leased  from  pressure.  What  men  did  with  the 
opportunity  would  still  be,  as  it  had  always  been, 
a  matter  for  themselves.  But  no  longer  would 
there  be  any  reason  or  necessity  for  the  ;sub- 
mergence  under  inexorable  circumstance  of  the 
man  whose  hands  reached  toward  the  stars.  That 
is  what  he  visioned;  and  that  is  what  Burton, 
kindling  to  his  ideas,  saw  too.  And  as  she  had 
not  lived  with  the  idea,  as  had  he,  and  was  un 
accustomed  to  it,  she  was  the  more  eagerly  afire. 
And  through  whatever  mysterious  affinities  or 
harmonies  or  channels  there  be,  the  great  Intel 
ligences,  one  of  whose  charges  is  our  little  earth, 
felt  the  vibration,  and  understood,  and  were  con 
tent. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THINGS  move  by  ordered  Law,  which  none 
may  transcend.  Effect  follows  cause  and  in 
its  turn  becomes  cause  to  many  more  effects.  An 
event  wound  up  by  the  impetus  of  an  original 
desire  moves  straight  ahead  like  a  child's  me 
chanical  toy  across  a  floor.  When  the  strength 
of  its  impetus  is  exhausted,  it  runs  down.  The 
spending  of  the  impetus  we  call  destiny. 

In  these  mechanics  is  just  one  living,  outside 
thing,  the  Desire.  That  wound  the  toy,  that 
started  it  on  its  way!  The  strength  of  it  deter 
mined  the  duration  of  its  run.  Without  desire 
nothing  happens.  I  move  the  smallest  muscle 
of  my  littlest  finger  only  because  I  desire,  and 
in  pursuance  send  forth  my  will.  Wherever 
machinery  moves,  visible  or  invisible,  following 
accurately  the  law  of  its  being,  it  is  because 
somewhere,  somehow,  an  intelligence  has  desired 
and  willed.  A  baby's  hand  may  touch  a  lever 
that  will  release  the  dynamics  of  an  engine 
wherein  is  stored  the  mighty  impetus  of  a  thou 
sand  coal  miners,  mechanics,  engineers,  inventors. 
But  the  baby  desired  to  move  its  hand. 

Destiny  is  the  spending  of  this  impetus,  then, 

124 


ON    TIPTOE  125 

according  to  inexorable,  unchangeable  law.  But 
destiny  can  be  altered  by  the  free  will  of  man. 
It  is  possible  to  pick  up  the  mechanical  toy  and 
set  it  down  facing  in  another  direction  so  that 
it  may  run  on  the  hardwood  floor  instead  of  on 
the  rug.  The  Law  is  inexorable;  but  it  may  be 
utilised  by  those  who  understand.  Thus  we  must 
define  destiny  anew  as  the  spending  of  impetus 
unmodified  by  spiritual  consciousness. 

So  we  see  the  great  Intelligences,  dimly  per 
ceived,  never  understood,  who,  I  warned  you, 
were  characters  in  our  tale,  watching  the  incon 
ceivably  tangled  working  out  of  the  Law  on  our 
little  earth.  Slowly  the  evolution  climbs.  Cause 
and  effect;  effect  and  cause  again.  Never  a  de 
sire  thrown  into  the  world  that  does  not  start  its 
impetus  in  accordance  with  its  strength.  Never 
an  impetus  that  comes  to  rest  unspent.  An  in 
extricable  web  yet  slowly  growing  to  a  pattern. 
A  hopelessly  clashing  world;  yet  gradually  de 
fining  the  harmonies  of  its  fate.  A  mad  confu 
sion  ;  yet  imperceptibly  working  through  the  Law 
toward  simplicity. 

This  is  the  ultimate  business  of  life;  the  kin 
dling  of  desire.  Otherwise  all  is  dead. 

Desire  is  aroused  by  pressure,  by  resistance. 
Far  down  in  the  beginnings  of  things  the  cell 
was  awakened  by  its  simple  needs  of  nourish 
ment,  of  warmth.  Dimly,  gropingly,  it  sent  forth 


126  ON    TIPTOE 

its  feeble  effort  of  volition  to  attain  them;  and 
so  an  impetus  was  born.  JEons  later  mankind 
fought  his  more  complex  pressures — hunger, 
cold,  nakedness — and  he  fought  them  desper 
ately,  his  strength  barely  sufficing  at  its  utmost 
to  turn  the  scale  in  his  favour.  Yet  by  the  im 
petus  thus  generated  he  rose.  It  is  a  profound 
truth  that  only  by  resistance  can  anything  rise. 
An  aeroplane  mounts  by  the  resistance  of  the 
air.  For  this  reason  some  particularly  intelli 
gent  people  use  the  words  work  and  resistance 
interchangeably. 

"I  must  go  forth  and  seek  some  resistance," 
say  they;  or,  "I  must  go  find  some  work  to  do," 
depending  on  whether  the  spiritual  or  the  ma 
terial  quality  happens  to  be  uppermost  in  their 
minds.  But  it  is  the  same  thing;  springing  from 
the  same  necessity;  resulting  in  the  same  quick 
ening. 

At  first  pressures  are  crude  and  heavy;  for 
it  is  only  by  the  drastic  that  dull  lower  forms 
are  aroused.  It  is  a  dreadful  thing  to  submit 
to  pressure  without  being  aroused!  But  as  the 
slow  spiral  of  evolution  mounts,  one  by  one  the 
cruder  pressures  are  lifted  or  lightened.  Man 
improves  his  environment;  he  invents;  he  co 
operates.  There  have  been  certain  crucial 
periods  in  the  world's  history  when  age-old  bur 
dens  have  fallen.  A  dozen  of  them  spring  to 


ON    TIPTOE  127 

mind.  And  always  in  the  last  analysis  the  cause 
has  been  in  the  genius  of  a  man.  We  have  talked 
of  inspiration;  and  we  have  been  right. 

For  note  you  this:  our  Lords  of  Life,  the 
great  Invisible  Intelligences  who  in  their  own 
upward  spiral  have  found  for  the  moment  their 
Resistance  in  the  progress  of  our  little  earth— 
these  Invisibles  can  no  more  work  without  the 
Law  than  we  can.  There  are  no  miracles.  But 
this  they  can  do:  When  they  see  that  in  the 
slow  brooding  of  the  ages  mankind  has  reached 
the  point  where  it  seems  it  can  be  trusted  to  go 
on,  to  develop  its  certain  impetuses  spontane 
ously  without  the  stimulus  of  a  certain  pressure, 
then  they  can  remove  that  pressure.  How? 
Some  man,  brooding  beneath  the  stars,  conceives 
a  great  idea.  We  say  he  was  inspired.  Thus 
the  mechanical  toy  is  lifted  from  the  floor  and 
set  running  in  a  new  direction.  Thus  is  the  Law 
assured.  Thus,  and  thus  only,  does  mankind 
climb  slowly  and  painfully  by  the  sole  strength 
of  his  self-conceived  aspiration.  Thus  one  by 
one  will  the  difficulties  and  material  struggles 
of  wars  and  pestilences  and  grinding  toil  and 
poverty  and  injustice  be  lifted  from  us;  but  only 
as  their  usefulness  ceases,  only  as  we  rise  and 
prove  worthy. 

Do  you  see  now  how  our  Invisibles — whoever, 
whatever  they  may  be — are  in  real  truth  en- 


128  ON    TIPTOE 

tered  in  our  tale?  An  inspiration  given;  a  new 
thing  in  the  world,  new  but  working  as  all  things 
must  in  accordance  with  law ;  a  great  pressure  of 
toil  about  to  vanish  as  early  morning  mists  van 
ish  before  the  strengthening  rays  of  the  sun. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

BY  the  campfire  Grimstead  and  his  Second 
in  Command  talked  in  low  tones. 

"What  about  this,  Gardiner?"  demanded  the 
Pirate  Chief  as  soon  as  the  young  people  were 
out  of  hearing.  "It  sounds  like  the  most  insane 
thing  I  ever  heard.  Sounds  like  perpetual  mo 
tion.  But  this  young  fellow  has  a  way  of  calling 
the  turn—" 

"There's  no  real  scientific  reason  why  he  hasn't 
got  it,"  stated  Gardiner,  "any  more  than  there's 
any  real  scientific  reason  why,  if  there  are  spirits, 
they  shouldn't  communicate  with  us  in  certain 
conditions.  We  simply  don't  believe  either  of 
them  because  it  hasn't  been  scientifically  proved 
to  us  that  they  have." 

"In  other  words  it's  possible,  but  not  probable; 
and  we're  from  Missouri,"  said  Grimstead. 

"Exactly.  It  is  well  known  that  the  earth 
lies  in  a  vast  magnetic  field  and  that  that  mag 
netic  field  means  power.  Trouble  is  to  isolate 
your  generating — or  rather  transforming — ap 
paratus." 

"Huh?"  ejaculated  Grimstead. 

"Well,  suppose  you  sunk  a  bottle  without  a 

129 


130  ON    TIPTOE 

cork  a  few  thousand  feet  into  the  sea.  At  that 
depth  there  is  tremendous  pressure — enough  to 
crush  in  a  thick  steel  shell — and  of  course  such 
a  force  is  power.  But  sink  your  bottle  with  a 
cork  in  it,  and  very  promptly  that  cork  will  be 
forced  in.  The  thing  that  forced  it  is,  of  course, 
power.  What  you've  done  is  to  get  outside  of 
your  source  of  power.  Same  thing  here.  We're 
in  this  magnetic  field,  but  we're  all  soaked  up 
with  it.  If  we  could  get  outside  it,  or,  rather,  get 
it  outside  us,  we  could  use  it.  If  this  fellow  has 
anything,  he's  done  just  that." 

"Then  you  think  it  possible?" 

"I  didn't  say  so.  I  said  merely  that  it  is  not 
scientifically  impossible." 

"Well,  that  we  can  soon  determine.  I'm  glad 
you've  got  this  fool  bet.  It  will  give  you  a 
good  excuse  to  keep  close  tabs  on  the  whole 
thing.  This  may  prove  important,  Gardiner,  and 
I  want  you  to  make  it  your  business  while  we 
are  here  to  stay  on  the  job.  It  is  business;  and 
it  might  conceivably  amount  to  a  big  thing  for 
both  of  us." 

"I  shall  not  leave  the  place  while  the  test  is  on." 

"It  will  pay  to  make  no  mistakes.  You  will 
of  course  be  taken  care  of  if  the  thing's  any 
good." 

Gardiner  nodded. 

"Well,  so  much  for  that.     Simmins,"  Grim- 


ON    TIPTOE  131 

stead  addressed  that  silent  person,  "do  you  sup 
pose  you  could  find  me  some  worms  in  the  morn 
ing?" 

"Worms,  sir?"  repeated  Simmins  incredu 
lously. 

"Yes,  worms.  The  kind  the  robins  pull  up. 
Fishing  worms." 

"I  could  not  say,  I  am  sure,  sir,"  said  Sim 
mins  with  hauteur. 

'Well,  you  dig  around  the  wet  places  and  see. 
I  want  a  nice  little  can  full." 

Simmins  disdained  reply.  It  was  no  part  of 
the  duties  either  of  a  butler  or  of  a  chauffeur, 
as  he  understood  them,  to  furnish  worms  to  any 
body.  Feeding  Punketty-Snivvles  was  as  low 
as  he'd  got  up  to  date,  and  that  was  only  in  def 
erence  to  Miss  Burton.  The  bright  and  hilarious 
thought  came  to  him  that  he  might  advise  Grim- 
stead  to  use  Punketty-Snivvles  for  bait  instead 
of  worms;  and  he  dramatised  delightfully  in 
great  detail  just  his  own  manner  of  haughty  dig 
nity  leavened  with  dry  humour  and  the  aston 
ished  appreciation  of  his  employer. 

"You  are  right,  Simmins,"  rejoined  the  latter, 
"such  menial  tasks  are  beneath  the  dignity  of  one 
like  yourself.  I  should  never  have  asked  it,  and 
I  offer  my  apologies.  The  request  was  proffered 
without  thought." 

Whereupon  Grimstead,  by  way  of  emphasis- 


132  ON    TIPTOE 

ing  his  excuses,  offered  Simmins  one  of  his  dollar 
cigars — with  the  flavour  of  which,  by  the  way, 
Simmins  was  already  thoroughly  familiar. 

Fortunately  there  was  another  side  of  Sim 
mins  that  advised  his  not  staging  the  drama. 
That  side  was  practical  and  had  a  vision  of  its 
own.  So  after  savouring  his  triumph  for  a  few 
moments  Simmins  put  it  away  in  cold  storage 
and  substituted  another  speech  of  enquiry  as  to 
how  early  worms  would  be  needed.  Simmins 
led  a  hidden  life  of  haughty  and  scornful  repudi 
ation  and  revolt,  always  successful.  But  he  al 
ways  went  and  did  it. 

He  went  and  did  it  the  next  morning,  though 
he  wanted  intensely  to  be  in  on  the  mysterious 
rites  at  the  car.  Rapscallion  was  sorry  for  him, 
and  as  Simmins  was  apparently  engaged  in 
doggy  business,  the  terrier  helped  him  dig.  The 
ground  was  soft  and  it  was  very  good  digging, 
though  the  motive  for  excavation  was  obscure. 
Sniff  as  he  might  Rapscallion  could  get  no  faint 
est  whiff  of  ground  squirrel,  mole  or  gopher. 
He  told  this  to  Simmins,  but  the  poor  goof 
went  right  on  digging  just  the  same.  Thereupon 
Rapscallion  also  went  right  on  digging,  though 
he  knew  perfectly  it  was  hopeless;  for  such  is 
the  fine  courtesy  of  dogs.  Punketty-Snivvles 
slavishly  copied  his  hero  as  far  as  he  was  able. 
He  had  never  dug  before.  His  long  silky  hair 


ON    TIPTOE  133 

became  matted  with  wet  earth;  his  beady  eyes 
sparkled,  he  yapped  shrilly  and  continuously  to 
the  effect  that  he  was  having  the  time  of  his 
life.  This  caused  both  Simmins  and  Rapscallion 
to  look  upon  him  bitterly.  How  could  any  sane 
being  have  the  time  of  his  life  at  such  a  futile 
occupation? 

However,  there  were  worms.  A  sufficient 
quantity  was  secured  about  the  hour  it  came  time 
to  move  camp.  The  famous  battery,  lashed  to 
the  running  board,  had  been  connected  up  with 
the  self-starter  which  was  now  turning  over  in 
the  laborious  and  vociferous  manner  peculiar  to 
the  species.  Grimstead  and  Gardiner  were  in 
clined  to  stand  and  watch  it  in  fascination;  but 
Davenport  was  quite  unimpressed. 

"That's  all  there  is  to  it,"  said  he.  "Now  all  we 
have  to  watch  out  for  is  that  she  doesn't  run  dry 
of  lubrication.  Simmins  can  keep  track  of  that." 

He  turned  away. 

"Now  we've  got  a  good  morning's  work  in 
front  of  us,"  he  announced  cheerfully.  "I  picked 
a  good  place  for  camp,  before  breakfast.  We 
must  move  camp,  and  then  we  must  make  a  start 
on  our  road  out." 

"I'm  going  fishing  this  afternoon,"  warned 
Grimstead. 

Davenport  laughed. 

"And  I'm  going  walking  back  to  the  ridge, 


134  ON    TIPTOE 

with  Miss  Burton  if  she  cares  to  go,  to  see  how 
the  rhododendrons  are  making  it." 

"Rhododendrons?  Real  rhododendrons?  Like 
those  in  the  Park?"  cried  Burton. 

"The  same." 

"Well,"  growled  Grimstead,  "I  don't  see  why 
we  shouldn't  get  at  it.  Simmins  ought  to  be  able 
to  move  camp.  Here,  Simmins,  you  move  the 
tent  down,  and  my  things,  and  Miss  Burton's 
and  Mr.  Davenport's.  Fix  up  a  good  camp,  like 
this  one.  You  and  Mr.  Gardiner  are  to  stay 
here." 

"Sir,"  answered  Simmins  with  entire  respect, 
but  very  firmly,  "it  is  true  I  take  your  wage, 
but  in  the  wildwood  it  is  immemorial  custom  that 
all  men  are  equal  and  perform  their  equal  shares 
of  the  daily  tasks.  It  is  true  also  that  a  leader 
or  directing  head  is  necessary  to  any  co-opera 
tion;  and  I  am  entirely  willing  to  obey  the  com 
mand  of  such  a  leader.  But  I  submit  that  that 
leader  should  be  the  one  best  qualified  to  com 
mand.  Mr.  Davenport  is  our  logical  captain.  I 
will  cheerfully  carry  out  his  decisions,  even 
should,  as  in  the  present  instance,  they  prove 
distasteful." 

This  speech  Simmins  translated  into,  "Yes, 
sir,  very  good,  sir,"  and  at  once  set  about  his 
task. 

The  others  followed  Davenport  to  the  willow 


ON    TIPTOE  135 

bottom  where  they  all  set  busily  to  work  cutting 
poles  and  dragging  them  out  onto  the  meadow. 
Burton  hung  about  them  for  a  while,  then  wan 
dered  away  in  the  direction  of  Simmins'  activities 
and  was  seen  no  more.  Out  in  the  little  meadow 
the  big  car  quivered  under  the  slow  rhythmical 
impulse  of  the  whirling  self-starter,  which 
shrieked  its  high  song.  From  time  to  time  Grim- 
stead  or  Gardiner,  after  dropping  a  load  of  poles, 
would  look  at  it  for  a  few  seconds,  a  growing 
wonder  in  their  eyes.  About  mid-morning  Grim- 
stead  said: 

"I  don't  need  any  four-day  test  to  show  me 
this  is  a  big  thing.  If  it  stopped  right  now,  ex 
hausted,  played  out,  it  would  be  a  big  thing. 
How  much  of  a  fool  do  you  make  out  this  young 
man  is?" 

"He's  the  crazy  up-in-the-air  gambling  kind 
of  fool,"  replied  Gardiner  contemptuously. 

"About  ten  thousand  dollars'  worth,  hey, 
Ross?"  grinned  the  Chief.  "But  I  get  you." 

When  the  sun  was  overhead  Davenport  called 
a  halt  and  they  all  went  to  the  stream's  edge 
to  wash  and  cool  off.  Grimstead  eyed  the  rushing 
waters  critically. 

"By  George,  she  looks  to  me  as  though 
she  were  going  down!"  he  cried  hopefully. 
"Wouldn't  you  say  that  the  water  is  clearing, 
Davenport?" 


136  ON    TIPTOE 

"Undoubtedly,"  encouraged  the  young  man, 
"but  if  I  were  you  I'd  stick  to  worms  or  a  spinner 
just  for  to-day." 

"I'm  going  to,"  assured  Grimstead;  "some  of 
these  thirty-three  degree  cranks  won't  fish  with 
anything  but  a  fly,  but  who  am  I  to  deny  an 
honest  trout  what  he  wants?" 

They  returned  to  camp.  Simmins  had  really 
done  remarkably  well.  He  was  an  adaptable, 
an  observant  creature,  and  he  had  watched  Dav 
enport  minutely  the  day  before.  A  certain  faint 
pride  might  have  been  discovered  in  him  by  a 
closely  observant  bystander.  A  blatant,  flushed, 
unashamed  pride  could  not  fail  to  be  remarked 
on  the  glowing  countenance  of  Burton.  The 
cause  of  that  was  not  apparent  until  Simmins, 
bringing  the  camp  kettles  to  the  edge  of  the 
spread  tarpaulin,  announced  in  reply  to  a  careless 
compliment : 

"No,  sir;  not  I,  sir.  Miss  Burton  did  the  cook 
ing,  sir." 

Davenport  merely  smiled  at  her  with  a  vague 
commendation.  But  if  the  kettles  had  exploded 
like  so  many  trench  mortars  the  effect  on  Grim- 
stead  could  not  have  been  more  devastating.  His 
eyes  popped,  his  mouth  opened,  his  breath  came 
quickty. 

"You'll  have  apoplexy,  dad,"  cried  Burton  im 
patiently.  "Try  it;  it  isn't  as  bad  as  all  that." 


ON    TIPTOE  137 

Grimstead  subsided  and  helped  himself;  hut 
he  continued  to  shake  his  head  and  mutter,  and 
from  time  to  time  he  was  seen  to  examine  closely 
the  food  and  to  sniff  at  it  in  a  manner  that 
brought  a  bright  flush  to  his  daughter's  cheeks. 

This  was  the  more  ready  because,  when  all  is 
said  and  done,  the  said  food  was  no  better  than 
passable.  As  evidence  of  willing  intention  it 
was  superb;  but  as  proof  of  culinary  skill  there 
was  somewhat  to  be  desired.  Perfectly  edible, 
you  understand,  capable  of  sustaining  life,  and 
even  moderately  palatable  to  men  who  had  been 
working  in  the  open  air;  but  a  little  the  sort  to 
which  one  would  not  care  to  invite  an  enemy — 
or  would,  depending  on  whether  pride  or  vindic- 
tiveness  was  uppermost.  Burton  had  worked 
very  hard  over  what  seemed  to  be  a  simple  mat 
ter,  and  her  mood  was  dangerous,  even  before 
her  father's  silly  performance. 

"By  Jove,"  Davenport  was  saying,  "it  cer 
tainly  is  a  comfort  to  come  in  off  work  and  find 
a  meal  waiting  for  you  instead  of  having  to  turn 
in  and  rustle  it  yourself.  You're  a  public  bene 
factor,  Miss  Burton." 

She  looked  at  him  gratefully. 

"I'm  afraid  it  isn't  very  good,"  she  confessed, 
"but  I  did  the  best  I  could.  Simmins" — she 
flashed  a  glance  of  scorn  at  that  individual — 
"claims  he  knows  nothing  about  cooking." 


138  ON    TIPTOE 

"Nothing  whatever,  miss,"  corroborated  Sim- 
mins  firmly. 

"Indeed?"  commented  Davenport.  "Well, 
we'll  teach  him.  Nothing  like  a  knowledge  of 
open-air  cooking  for  an  accomplishment,  Sim- 
mins.  Very  valuable  to  you." 

"Yes,  sir,"  murmured  Simmins,  crushed. 

"Open-air  cookery,"  pursued  Davenport 
largely,  as  though  dealing  in  generalities,  "is 
quite  a  trick  in  itself.  The  best  cooks  on  a  stove 
have  practically  to  begin  all  over  again.  There 
are  little  tricks  about  it  that  you  can  get  only  with 
experience.  Hot  fire,  and  currents  of  air  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing.  Now  take  rice."  He 
waved  an  explanatory  spoon.  "Seems  as  if  the 
dumb  stuff  would  stick  to  the  bottom  and  burn 
or  else  come  out  watery.  Yet  it's  very  simple." 

"Drat  the  rice!"  interrupted  Burton  with 
heartfelt  fervency.  "That's  what  happened  to 
mine— both!" 

"Well,  next  time  try  this.  Take  just  four 
cupfuls  of  salted  water.  When  it  is  boiling  hard 
put  in  a  cupful  of  rice.  At  once  clap  on  the 
cover  and  put  a  good  big  rock  on  top.  Leave 
it  for  exactly  twenty-two  minutes ;  not  a  minute 
more  or  less.  Then  it's  done.  There'll  be  no 
water  left;  the  rice  will  be  soft  and  plump,  and 
it  won't  be  burned." 

"Don't  you  stir  it?"  asked  Burton. 


ON    TIPTOE  139 

"No.     The  confined  steam  does  that." 

"I  should  think—" 

"I've  done  it  hundreds  of  times.  It  works," 
he  assured  her  smilingly.  "There  are  a  lot  of 
little  kinks  like  that;  and  they  are  quite  inter 
esting.  Stick  around  when  I  undertake  Sim- 
mins'  education." 

"I  will,"  she  cried  gaily.  She  was  deeply 
grateful  for  the  tactful  manner  with  which  the 
young  man  had  relieved  the  situation.  None 
of  her  acquaintance  could  have  done  it  better. 
Burton  confessed  to  a  growing  interest  and  re 
spect  in  the  capabilities  of  a  self-made  young 
garage  mechanic.  She  had  always  looked  on 
them  as  probably  skilful,  but  rather  coarse  and 
ignorant,  and  certainly  dirty.  That  was  as  far 
as  she  had  gone. 

The  meal  finished,  Grimstead  was  all  eager 
ness  to  be  off.  Davenport  advised  some  large 
pools  near  the  break  of  land,  which  he  would 
find  down  stream  a  mile  or  so.  He  departed 
sturdily.  Gardiner  said  he  thought  he  would 
take  a  snooze  on  the  boughs  at  the  other  camp. 
Davenport  drew  Simmins  aside  and  conversed 
with  him  low-voiced  for  a  while;  in  consequence 
of  which,  after  the  dishes  had  been  washed,  Sim 
mins  also  retired  to  the  old  camp. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

HE  two  young  people  plunged  into  the  f  or- 
JL  est,  Davenport  leading  the  way.  Rapscal 
lion  cut  wide,  interrogatory  circles  around  them. 
Punketty-Sniwles  attempted  to  follow,  but  was 
sternly  ordered  back.  The  inextricable  web  of 
cause  and  effect  we  call  chance  decreed  that  Gar 
diner  should  be  standing  nearest ;  that  upon  Gar 
diner's  unenthusiastic  care  Punketty-Sniwles 
should  be  bestowed  by  Burton.  After  they  had 
resumed  their  walk  they  could  hear  the  little 
beast's  shrill,  yapping  protest,  as  nagging  to  the 
nerves  as  the  reiterated  cry  of  the  fever  owl  in 
the  African  jungle.  The  yapping  suddenly 
ended  by  a  squeak  of  anguish.  Punketty-Sniv- 
vles  had  been  well  swatted,  and  that  swat  had 
added  Gardiner  to  his  list  of  enemies.  In  the 
slow  revolving  of  the  incidents  and  accidents 
that  make  up  our  story  this  enmity  had  im 
portant  results.  Punketty-Sniwles  was  a  true 
Bourbon  in  that  he  never  learned  and  never  for 
got. 

Davenport  led  the  way  skilfully  on  ever-rising 
ground,  following  the  faint,  mossy  half-trace  of 
what  was  a  water  course  only  when  rain  was 

140 


ON    TIPTOE  141 

actually  falling.  It  afforded  comparatively  clear 
footing  through  the  lofty  bracken,  dogwood  and 
smaller  thicket  which  spread  beneath  the  red 
wood  giants  like  a  carpet  with  a  nap  ten  feet 
high!  The  sun,  searching  in  turn  with  its  slant 
ing  shafts  and  arrows  every  aisle  and  pocket  of 
the  forest,  had  thoroughly  warmed  the  air.  A 
thousand  odours  thus  released  drifted  like  but 
terflies  idly  here  and  there,  fluttering  against  the 
senses  and  away  again;  smell  of  hot  evergreen 
needles,  smell  of  lush,  green,  over-warm  things, 
smell  of  damp,  dark,  uprooted  earth,  smell  of 
the  cool  of  running  water,  and  the  faint,  unguess- 
able,  elusive  little  perfumes  too  shy  to  make 
themselves  fully  known.  These  were  the  busiest 
and  most  numerous  of  the  woods  creatures,  these 
odours,  making  the  most  of  the  brief  hours  of 
their  release  by  the  sun  warmth  before  the  chill 
of  evening  should  banish  them  again.  But  with 
them  were  also  busy,  small,  scratching  birds  mak 
ing  two-clawed  swoops  at  the  humus  under  fern 
or  underbrush;  and  equally  busy,  small,  search 
ing  birds  who  would  look  you  both  sides  of  every 
twig  and  leaf  of  a  bush  before  you  could  say 
knife,  and  keep  a  bright  eye  on  you  all  the  time. 
Likewise  there  were  buzzing  and  droning  insects 
that  either  flew  in  straight  lines  to  distant  parts, 
or  that  hovered  in  swarms,  darting  erratically 
back  and  forth  within  a  limited  space  as  though 


142  ON    TIPTOE 

dancing  in  the  sun.  All  through  the  forest  car 
pet — whose  nap,  be  it  remembered,  was  ten  feet 
thick — was  life,  busy  and  small  and  charming 
and  self-centred.  But  when  the  eye  was  raised 
one  saw  again  only  great  fluted  columns,  and 
still  awe,  and  cathedral  lights  slanting.  The  For 
est,  like  an  aloof,  benign  god,  watched  and 
brooded  while  her  creatures  lived. 

Shortly  the  hill  rose  more  steeply,  and  here 
was  a  patch  of  the  gorgeous  rhododendrons  they 
had  come  to  see.  A  dim  old  woods  road,  long 
unused,  led  through  it,  and  this  they  followed. 
It  led  finally  to  a  sunny,  azalea-bordered,  natural 
clearing  of  several  acres,  grass  grown,  with  scat 
tered  bushes.  Here  and  there,  at  irregular  and 
widely  distributed  intervals,  grew  scrubby  and 
gnarled  old  apple  trees.  These,  a  number  of 
stumps,  and  the  half-obliterated  road  by  which 
they  had  come,  were  the  only  traces  of  some 
long  past  attempt  to  reclaim  for  human  use  this 
little  spot  in  the  wilderness. 

The  sun  here  was  warm  and  pleasant.  Bees 
hummed  and  hesitated  over  the  wild  flowers. 
They  sat  on  the  ground,  leaning  against  one  of 
the  ancient  stumps. 

"Tell  me  about  yourself,"  she  interjected  sud 
denly  into  a  desultory  speculation  as  to  the  man 
who  had  planted  the  apple  trees. 

"I  was  born  of  poor  but  honest  parents— 


ON    TIPTOE  143 

"No!  No!  Please  don't  be  silly!  I  want  to 
know." 

"What  particularly,  Oh  Lady?" 

"I  want  to  know  how  you  knew  so  accurately 
about  the  rain  and  the  tree  falling  and  all  the 
rest  of  that.  And  I  want  to  know  about  the 
battery  and  how  you  came  to  make  it.  It  was 
something  the  same  thing,  wasn't  it?" 

He  stared  at  her. 

"Why  do  you  say  that?"  he  asked  at  last. 

"I  don't  know;  I  feel  it.  Please  tell  me;  I 
do  want  to  know." 

He  hesitated  a  moment;  then  abruptly  took 
his  decision. 

"I'll  try,"  he  promised,  "but  I  don't  know  very 
clearly  myself.  I've  never  tried  to  express  it." 

He  hesitated  again,  seeking  for  an  opening. 

"Did  you  ever  read  Maeterlinck's  'Life  of  the 
Bee'?"  he  enquired.  "Or  any  of  Fabre's  insect 
books?" 

"I've  read  the  'Bee'  and  one  of  Fabre's— the 
one  where  the  Emperor  moth — " 

"Yes,  I  know.  Well,  that  gives  us  a  start. 
Now  bees,  and  especially  ants,  have  what  you 
might  call  a  co-operative  government  that  is  as 
complicated  and  a  lot  more  intelligent  and  effi 
cient  than  any  human  government.  I'm  just 
taking  them  as  a  sample;  the  same  thing  applies 
all  through  nature.  Creatures  work,  inside  their 


144  ON    TIPTOE 

own  needs,  with  an  intelligence  that  beats  ours 
a  calendar  mile.  Sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  ant  and  the  bee,  it  is  a  very  complicated 
intelligence.  If  a  man  were  required  to  sit  down 
and  plan  out  on  paper  all  the  political  ramifica 
tions  of  a  system  of  government  like  the  ant's 
he  would  have  to  be  possessed  of  a  very  high  de 
gree  of  brain  power,  and  he'd  have  to  use  it. 
How  come?" 

"Instinct,"  replied  Burton  promptly. 

"Sure  thing.  But  that  just  sticks  in  a  word 
as  a  stop -gap.  No,  get  down  and  look  at  it 
closely.  You  would  hardly  go  so  far  as  to  say 
that  an  ant  is  an  intellectual  creature;  that  he, 
or  any  of  his  ancestors  or  fellows,  has  a  brain 
that  could  think  out  and  put  in  operation  a  sys 
tem  of  government.  Yet  he  acts  with  a  heap 
more  intelligence  than  most  men  do — on  the  aver 
age.  How  come?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Neither  do  I;  but  I  surmise.  Suppose  for 
the  sake  of  argument  that  in  the  void  all  about 
and  through  us  is  a  saturate  solution  of  all  pos 
sible  knowledge  and  wisdom.  The  things  we  call 
living  creatures  live  in  this;  it  is  all  around  us; 
but  we  are  more  or  less  cut  off  from  it  by  the 
fact  that  we  are  individual  and  imperfect  beings. 
We  are  in  shells,  let  us  say;  particular  wisdom 


ON    TIPTOE  145 

or  knowledge  gets  to  us  only  through  special 
cracks.  A  perfect  being  would  have  a  point  of 
contact  for  every  possible  knowledge  or  wisdom. 
But  in  our  finite  world  every  individual,  whether 
it  is  a  rock  or  a  tree  or  an  ant,  is  so  built  that 
he  can  come  in  contact  only  with  the  particular 
little  piece  of  wisdom  or  intelligence  from  the 
great  store  that  he  needs  in  his  business.  All 
the  rest  of  the  points  of  contact  are  blocked 
off  by  his  individual  structure.  Thus  within  his 
limits  he  has  perfect  knowledge.  The  limits  may 
be  extremely  narrow,  as  in  the  case  of  a  tree. 
The  tree  knows  only  what  to  do  when  soil  is  poor, 
or  there  is  a  dry  season,  or  any  of  the  ordinary 
tree  things;  but  he  is  absolutely  sure  and  wise 
as  to  them.  He  doesn't  know  one  earthly  thing 
about  anything  else." 

"I  never  thought  of  a  tree  as  wise,"  commented 
Burton. 

"He  is  very  wise — in  what  he  knows.  Simi 
larly  the  ants.  They  have  access  to  the  universal 
wisdom  along  lines  of  contact  that  have  to  do 
with  government  by  co-operation;  and  in  that 
they  are  admirably  and  universally  wise.  The 
current  flows  through  certain  holes  and  turns 
certain  wheels,  and  is  everywhere  else  blocked 
off.  It's  the  same  all  through  nature.  How  do 
you  suppose  quail  know  ahead  of  time  whether 


146  ON    TIPTOE 

the  season  is  to  be  dry  or  wet,  and  breed  accord 
ingly?  The  more  you  think  of  it  the  more  in 
stances  you  will  perceive." 

"It's  fascinating,"  she  cried. 

"Point  is,"  he  summed  up,  "having  no  'intel 
lect,'  in  our  sense  of  the  word,  these  lower  crea 
tures  are  unobstructed  channels.  Cause  and  ef 
fect  are  absolutely  clear  to  them;  but  only  the 
cause  and  effect  that  have  to  do  with  their  own 
normal  kind  of  life;  and  the  wise  thing  to  do 
in  that  cause  and  effect  automatically  becomes 
known  to  them." 

"But  hold  on !"  objected  Burton.  "How  about 
accidents?  They  are  absolutely  the  result  of 
causes  and  effects.  Why  doesn't  your  ant  see 
that  I'm  going  to  step  on  his  hill,  and  move?" 

"Simply  because  it  is  an  accident,  as  I  make 
it  out.  He  is  equipped  for  the  normal  causes 
and  effects  of  his  life;  not  for  the  abnormal." 

"That  is  the  most  interesting  thing  I  ever 
heard !"  breathed  Burton.  "And  it  sounds  so  rea 
sonable!  But  you  know  we  started  to  talk  about 
you,  not  about  ants.  I  believe  you  are  a  crafty 
side-stepper!" 

"We're  headed  toward  me.  I  think  I  should 
like  to  have  you  understand." 

"I  think  I  do  understand  the  idea,"  rejoined 
Burton  slowly,  "but  I  don't  know  that  I  quite 
accept  it.  It  would  seem,  according  to  that,  that 


ON    TIPTOE  147 

the  lower  in  the  scale  of  life  you  got  the  wiser 
you  were." 

"The  wiser  you  are  inside  your  limitations," 
corrected  Davenport,  "our  limitations  are  wider 
than  those  of  the  ant.  But  let's  not  get  into 
philosophy;  let's  stick  to  the  main  subject,  and 
that,  I  believe,  is  Me." 

He  said  this  in  a  manner  to  bring  a  laugh,  but 
Burton  did  not  smile. 

"It  is  very  interesting,"  she  said  slowly.  "I 
have  a  slight  suspicion  it  is  highbrow."  At  last 
she  laughed.  "Think  of  me  being  highbrow! 
Annette  Colton  would  fall  dead!" 

"Well,  as  I  see  it,"  Davenport  resumed,  "if 
things  were  all  working  along  the  way  they 
should,  man  would  have  this  same  access  to  uni 
versal  wisdom  that  the  lower  creatures  have,  only 
more  so,  because  he  is  a  higher  and  more  com 
plicated  being.  He  would  not  be  wholly  wise, 
of  course,  and  he  would  make  mistakes  and  bump 
against  accidents,  just  as  the  ants  and  bees  do; 
and  they  would  be  more  colossal  mistakes  and 
gaudier  accidents  because  they  would  be  on  a 
different  scale.  But  as  respects  all  the  things 
He  would  normally  run  against  in  his  everyday 
normal  life  he  would  see,  or  feel — perceive  is  a 
tetter  word — the  causes  and  effects  and  results ; 
because  the  stream  of  life  would  flow  through 
him  by  certain  channels  turning  certain  wheels.'* 


148  ON    TIPTOE 

"That's  what  you  do!"  she  cried  excitedly.  "I 
see!" 

"In  a  very  small  and  practical  way;  a  little 
more  than  the  average.  People  have  just  about 
lost  that  power.  They  have  little  remnants  of 
it.  You've  heard  of  premonitions  that  have 
worked  out;  or  a  'feeling'  that  some  one  was  in 
the  room ;  or  experienced  some  one  of  the  numer 
ous  'coincidences,'  such  as  receiving  a  letter  right 
on  top  of  some  especial  thought  of  the  person 
who  wrote  it.  You  may  have  had  dreams  that 
came  true." 

"Yes,"  she  cried,  "what  about  it?" 

"You  probably  thought  of  all  this  as  'uncanny/ 
It  wasn't  uncanny  at  all.  Simply  old,  choked 
channels  letting  through  a  trickle." 

She  pondered  this  a  moment,  her  brows  puck 
ered  prettily. 

"Is  it  our  fault — this  choking?"  she  asked. 
"How  did  it  happen?" 

"I  don't  know,  of  course;  but  I  surmise,"  he 
repeated.  "It  is  the  intervention  of  mind,  of 
intellect.  The  ant  has  practically  no  mind,  as 
we  know  it,  and  so  he  responds  literally  unthink 
ingly  to  what  comes  through  him.  Mankind,  at 
the  present  time,  doesn't  respond  unthinkingly  to 
anything.  Rather  he  responds  to  his  thinking." 

"That  sounds  deep,"  she  objected,  "and  surely 
the  human  intellect — " 


ON    TIPTOE  149 

"Yes,  I  know  and  I  agree — noblest  work  of 
God  and  all  that.  But  we've  got  the  thing  up 
side  down,  the  cart  before  the  horse.  How  we 
ever  began  to  hitch  'em  up  that  way,  I  don't 
know.  Natural  perversity,  fall  of  man  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing,  I  suppose." 

"I  don't  understand  what  you  mean." 

"Well,"  he  explained,  "the  ant  has  legs,  and 
pincers  and  eyes  and  all  those  things;  and  they 
are  practically  tools  to  carry  out  the  especial 
wisdom  of  life,  the  desirable  reactions,  he  gets 
from  that  part  of  the  great  current  that  flows 
through  him.  That  clear?" 

"Yes." 

"All  right.  Well,  man's  intellect  also  was  in 
tended  to  be  merely  a  tool  to  handle  and  carry 
out  the  especial  wisdom  of  life,  the  desirable  re 
actions,  he  gets  from  the  current.  It's  a  fine 
tool,  and  complicated.  But  it  was  supposed  to 
be  only  a  tool  for  the  purpose  of  examining  and 
making  practical  what  came  to  it  by  direct  chan 
nel.  Mankind  got  so  tickled  with  it  that  he 
began  to  run  himself  and  all  his  affairs  by  it 
alone.  That  blocked  the  channel.  The  mind 
took  control,  instead  of  working  under  control. 
Result  is  we're  getting  more  and  more  mixed 
up  and  complicated.  Instead  of  playing  with 
a  nice  fresh  supply  of  first  hand — well,  call  it 
inspiration;  that's  what  it  is — we  make  over  and 


150  ON    TIPTOE 

refashion  old  stuff.  If  it  weren't  for  the  fact 
that  some  people's  channels  are  not  completely 
blocked,  so  that  a  kind  of  a  trickle  does  get 
through;  and  if  it  wasn't  for  an  occasional  crazy 
genius  who  busts  out,  we'd  tie  ourselves  up  in 
our  minds  and  dry  up  and  blow  away." 

She  was  leaning  forward,  her  eyes  shining,  her 
cheeks  red  with  the  excitement  of  a  new  funda 
mental  idea.  Burton's  life  was  not  one  prolific 
of  fundamental  ideas.  For  the  moment  she  com 
prehended  by  means  rather  of  her  inner  percep 
tion  than  by  an  ordered  process  of  mind.  With 
true  instinct  she  reached  toward  the  individual 
instance. 

"Then,"  she  summed  up  slowly,  "you  could  tell 
about  the  rain  and  the  tree  falling  because  this 
current  flowed  through  you." 

"That's  roughly  it." 

"How  do  you  do  it?" 

"It's  hard  to  say.  I  set  my  mind  aside  and 
then  take  what  comes  to  me." 

"Comes  to  you?    How?    In  words?" 

"JSTo.      I    just    know    things.      There    they 


are." 


"But  there  are  so  many  things — " 

"Things  swarm  all  about  us,  trees,  flowers, 

grasses,  birds,  insects,  lights,  shadows,  all  sorts 

of  things.    Yet  they  have  absolutely  no  existence 

as  far  as  you  are  concerned  until  you  turn  your 


ON    TIPTOE  151 

attention  to  them.  I  turn  my  attention  to  the 
type  of  thing  that  is  useful  for  me  to  know." 

"Like  a  searchlight,"  she  nodded  thoughtfully. 
"That's  what  you  did  the  other  night  in  regard 
to  the  weather  and  the  tree." 

"The  weather,  yes;  the  tree  was  incidental. 
There  are  some  things  that  have  to  do  with  dan 
ger  that  force  themselves  on  the  attention.  I 
don't  pretend  to  understand  it  very  well.  What 
I've  told  you  is  of  course  just  the  explanation 
I've  figured  out." 

"Can  you  do  it  any  time?" 

"Why,  of  course.  Just  as  I  can  open  my 
mouth  at  any  time.  Why  not?  Unless,  of 
course,  there  is  something  going  on  so  distracting 
that  my  mind  simply  refuses  to  be  set  aside." 

"Show  me,  then,"  she  demanded  eagerly.  "Do 
it  now!" 

"All  right,"  he  agreed.  "I  feel  a  little  silly 
showing  off  that  kind  of  a  thing.  Most  people 
would  think  me  crazy.  But  what  kin  I  do  fer 
you,  kind  Lady?"  he  mimicked.  "Cross  me  palm 
with  silver." 

He  held  out  his  hand  wheedlingly.  Laughing, 
she  fumbled  in  her  pocket,  and  at  last  produced 
a  five-cent  piece.  He  looked  at  it  doubtfully. 

"That's  not  silver;  it's  nickel,"  he  accused. 
"But  never  mind;  I'm  good-natured.  What  do 
you  want  to  know?" 


152  ON    TIPTOE 

"Tell  me  just  how  many  trout  father  will 
catch." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"Your  guess  is  every  bit  as  good  as  mine,"  said 
he.  "You  see,  your  father's  catching  trout  has 
nothing  to  do  with  normal  average  human  life." 

"It's  the  accident!"  she  cried  joyously.  "I'll 
have  to  tell  father  that!" 

"Not  from  me!"  he  warned. 

"Well,"  she  considered,  "tell  me  just  what 
Simmins  will  be  doing  at  nine  o'clock  to-night." 

Davenport  shook  his  head. 

"You  don't  get  the  limits  of  this  thing,  either 
for  ants  or  humans.  All  we  really  get  is  cause 
and  effect,  and  the  complicated  trend  of  it. 
There's  one  thing  that  can  upset  the  show  about 
every  clip,  and  that  is  human  free  will.  An  in 
telligence  with  enough  wisdom  to  understand  the 
law  of  cause  and  effect  absolutely  accurately  in 
all  its  complications  could  make  you  a  prediction 
of  almost  any  nature,  and  it  would  come  out, 
provided  some  fellow  didn't  come  along  with  his 
free  will  and  modify  the  whole  sequence  in  some 
way  and  start  another  chain  of  causes  and  ef 
fects.  I  could  perceive  that  the  tree  was  going 
to  fall  probably  because  a  great  many  great  and 
small  causes  were  just  about  to  culminate  in 
the  natural  course  of  events.  But  for  the  life 
of  me  I  couldn't  tell  you  when  or  whether  any 


ON    TIPTOE  153 

tree  is  going  to  be  cut  down  by  an  axeman.  Do 
you  get  the  difference?" 

"I  think  so." 

"Well,  anything  else  within  that  limitation." 

"I  believe,"  said  she  suddenly,  "I'll  leave  it 
to  you.  Do  something  startling.  You  don't 
mind,  do  you?  It  isn't  being — being — well,  ir 
reverent  in  any  way?" 

He  shouted  with  laughter. 

"Irreverent!  Where  did  you  get  that  idea? 
There's  nothing  mysterious  or  sacred  or  occult 
about  any  of  this  any  more  than  there  is  about 
your  digestion.  It's  a  simple  natural  thing.  I 
wouldn't  like  to  show  off  before  people  ordina 
rily,  any  more  than  I'd  like  to  stand  on  my  head; 
but  I'd  just  as  soon  stand  on  my  head  if  it  will 
amuse  my  intimate  friends.  The  lady  wants 
something  startling,"  he  mused.  "Wonder  what 
the  modern  debutante  considers  startling!" 

"Don't  be  silly;  and  I'm  not  a  debutante." 

"I  beg  your  pardon.  That  of  course  alters 
the  situation.  Simple  yet  startling  demonstra 
tion  of  the  man's  powers." 

He  pondered  for  a  moment. 

"I  think  perhaps  the  simplest  is  the  best,"  he 
decided.  "Now  on  the  other  side  of  the  stump  is 
a  large  ant  hill — I  noticed  it  as  we  came  in.  Sup 
pose  you  go  around  there  and  get  an  eye  on  it 
while  I  get  going." 


154  ON    TIPTOE 

She  arose,  shook  her  skirts,  and  circled  the 
stump.  Davenport  sat  up  straight,  and  for  the 
second  time  since  the  beginning  of  these  adven 
tures  his  eyes  took  on  the  peculiar,  far-away, 
glassy-surfaced  stare.  After  about  half  a  min 
ute  he  began  to  speak. 

"The  shadow  of  this  stump  at  this  moment 
just  reaches  the  outermost  edge  of  the  ant  hill. 
In  a  second  or  so  it  will  be  in  sunlight.  Just  now 
the  ant  hill  seems  to  be  deserted.  When  the  sun 
falls  on  it  a  lone  soldier-ant  will  come  out  from 
the  second  orifice  counting  from  the  north.  As 
he  reaches  the  top  of  the  hole  a  large  grain  of 
sand — about  small  boulder  size  to  him — will  roll 
under  him  and  he  will  have  to  recover  his  balance 
with  an  effort.  He  will  be  followed  after  a  sec 
ond  or  so  by  five  worker  ants  who  will  turn  to 
the  eastward  and  disappear  in  the  grass.  Before 
they  are  out  of  sight,  however,  quite  a  number 
will  come  out  and  scatter  in  various  directions, 
but  four  of  them  will  climb  up  the  stub.  There 
is  something  to  eat  on  the  top  of  the  stub  and 
they  are  going  to  get  it.  Two  of  them  will  get 
it  to  the  edge,  one  pushing  and  one  pulling; 
and  once  there  the  other  two  will  tie  in  and 
help." 

"What  is  there  to  eat  on  the  stub?"  she  en 
quired. 

"I  don't  know.    Something  inanimate.    That's 


ON    TIPTOE  155 

enough.     Now  have  you  got   that   clearly   in 
mind?" 

"Better  than  that;  I've  got  it  on  paper,"  she 
called. 

He  fished  out  a  stubby  pipe  and  a  plug  of 
tobacco  from  which  he  began  to  whittle  a  charge. 
On  the  other  side  the  stump  from  time  to  time 
he  heard  little  excited  exclamations.  At  the  end 
of  five  minutes  she  appeared,  her  cheeks  flushed 
with  excitement. 

"Check  up?"  he  enquired  amusedly. 

"Perfectly,"  she  cried.  "It's  the  most  won 
derful  thing  I  ever  heard  of!  It's — it's  clair 
voyance,  isn't  it?" 

"Mildewed  word.  Stop  gap,"  he  corrected. 
"Doesn't  make  you  understand  things  to  label 
them  with  words,  though  most  people  think  a 
thing  is  explained  once  it's  named  something.  It 
sounds  mysterious,  but  it  is  again  nothing  but 
cause  and  effect.  The  physical  arrangement  of 
facts  brought  automatically  conditions  to  which 
the  various  ants  reacted  through  their  instincts — 
the  parts  of  the  current  of  wisdom  that  flowed 
through  the  channels  provided  in  ants." 

"Did  you  actually  see  those  things  going  to 
happen?" 

"No.  I  just  knew  them;  I  had  a  conviction. 
I  put  my  mind  aside  and  sat  still  and  they  just 
came  into  my  mind.  It's  hard  to  describe." 


156  ON    TIPTOE 

"I  think  I  understand — a  little.  I've  had 
things  come  to  me  that  way,  once  in  a  blue  moon. 
Won't  you  tell  me  how  you  first  experienced 
it,  and  whether  you  developed  it?" 

He  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke  and  looked  at  her 
through  quizzically  narrowed  eyes. 

"Most  as  amusing  as  the  Orpheum,"  said  he 
drily. 

"No!  No!"  she  denied  with  vehemence.  "I 
want  to  know!" 

"Why?"  he  demanded. 

She  calmed,  and  looked  a  little  confused. 

"Why — why — you're  right,  I  suppose  I  am 
prying.  I  beg  your  pardon — but  I  did  want  to 
know." 

He  laughed  comfortably. 

"I'll  tell  you  all  I  know  gladly — which  isn't 
much,"  he  promised,  "because  you  really  do  want 
to  know.  You  must  pardon  me,  but  in  my  time 
I've  been  up  against  fake  debutante  enthusiasm.'* 

"I  told  you  I'm  not  a  debutante!"  she  cried 
indignantly.  "  And  I'll  have  you  understand 
I'm  not  to  be  humoured  like  a  child." 

"Now  don't  go  away  mad!"  he  coaxed,  half- 
humorously,  but  with  an  undertone  of  pleading 
sincerity  that  arrested  her  half  movement.  "1 
meant  not  to  offend  your  gracious  majesty.  But 
also  I  have  a  skittish  horror  of  being  made  a 
goat.  I  really  enjoy  talking  about  myself — I'm 


ON    TIPTOE  157 

quite  a  normal  young  man — but  only  when  I'm 
sure  I'm  not  being  made  fun  of.  Let's  see,  you 
wanted  to  know  how  this  thing  started." 

"Yes,"  she  eyed  him  doubtfully,  "but  please 
do  not  feel — " 

"No,  I  don't,"  he  interrupted  her  firmly, 
"whatever  it  is.  When  I  was  a  youngster  I  dis 
covered  by  accident  that  I  had  a  queer  faculty 
of  being  able  to  move  around  in  the  dark  freely 
and  without  hitting  things  as  long  as  I  kept 
my  mind  blank,  or  let  it  just  idle  along.  For 
instance,  coming  home  through  the  woods  at 
night,  I'd  turn  out  for  trees  or  avoid  thickets  or 
step  over  stones  that  I  could  not  see  at  all;  and 
furthermore  I'd  land  accurately  in  camp.  That, 
mind  you,  was  only  as  long  as  I  didn't  think 
about  it  consciously.  The  minute  I'd  think 
whether  I  ought  to  turn  to  the  right  or  left,  or 
wonder  whether  I  wasn't  going  to  hit  a  tree,  or 
something,  I'd  begin  to  bump  and  blunder." 

"That's  the  way  it  started.    Then  what?" 

"Why,  then,  nothing.  I  just  thought  of  it 
as  a  handy  kink  in  my  make  up.  But  when  I 
grew  up  and  began  to  think  about  things  more 
I  began  to  see  certain  connections  between  that 
faculty  and  the  way  things  worked  out  in  my 
profession.  To  get  any  'furderer'  with  this  I've 
got  to  talk  shop  outrageously.  Do  you  mind?" 

"Of  course  not !     I'd  love  it !" 


158  ON    TIPTOE 

"Well,  most  people  think  that  when  a  man 
writes  a  story — " 

"Oh!"  she  cried,  taken  aback.  "Do  you  write 
stories?" 

"I  so  understand  from  sufficient  outside  au 
thority  to  overcome  my  own  natural  scepticism." 

She  stared  at  him  intently  but  abstractedly, 
as  a  tremendous  suspicion  took  her  mind. 

"You  aren't — you  aren't  Lawrence  Daven 
port!"  she  said  incredulously. 

"Friends  call  me  Larry,"  he  acknowledged. 

"Not  the  Lawrence  Davenport?" 

"I'm  the  only  one  I  know  about.  There  may 
be  others  I  wot  not  of;  but  be  assured,  O  Lady, 
that  they  are  nothing  but  spurious  imitations." 

"Why,  I've  read  all  your  books — " 

"You  are  very  patient." 

" — and  I've  just  loved  them!" 

"Long  and  patient  study  has  not  yet  revealed 
to  me  the  suitable  answer  to  one  who  claims  she 
loves  your  books,"  sadly  confessed  Davenport. 

Burton  began  to  chuckle,  then  to  laugh  aloud. 
This  continued  so  long  that  Davenport  knit  his 
brows  at  her. 

"Even  my  famous  wit — "  he  began. 

"I'm  thinking  of  the  joke  on  us,"  she  ex 
plained,  wiping  her  eyes,  "of  Dad.  We  thought 
you  were  a  garage  mechanic!" 

Davenport  looked  genuinely  astonished. 


ON    TIPTOE  159 

"And  me  with  such  gentlemanly  manners/'  he 
mourned,  "and  my  plug  tobacco  is  for  smoking,, 
not  chewing;  and  my  diction,  faulty  as  it  is,  yet 
observes  the  rules  of  grammar.  And  my  rai 
ment  while  not  sumptuous — " 

"Your  funny  little  car  misled  us,  I  suppose," 
she  explained,  "and  then  you  were  so  handy  about 
everything." 

"You  relieve  me.  The  car  was  the  cheapest  I 
could  get  for  a  pure  experiment.  Its  strangely 
horrific  disguise  was  imposed  by  its  former 
owner.  I  had  not  thought  of  it.  But  it  does 
signify,  now  that  I  consider  it ;  much  as  long  vi- 
sored  caps  signify,  or  'college  cut'  clothes.  But 
I  am  glad  I  was  handy." 

"But  go  on  about  the  battery,"  she  ordered. 

"Do  you  know,"  he  said  admiringly,  "my  re 
spect  for  you  becomes  prof ounder  every  moment. 
You  have  an  admirable  directness  and  perti 
nacity;  and  your  short  cuts  of  intuition  are  a 
delight.  We  were  talking  about  the  battery  a 
few  centuries  ago,  weren't  we?" 

"We've  been  talking  about  the  battery  right 
along,  and  you  know  it,"  said  she. 

"Well,  as  I  was  saying:  most  people  imagine 
that  when  a  man  writes  a  story  he  sits  down  and 
invents  it  with  the  front  part  of  his  brain,  the  way 
you'd  sit  down  and  make  a  list  of  something: 
that  he  decides  that  this  character  will  do  this, 


160  OX    TIPTOE 

and  that  character  will  do  that  and  that  the  whole 
plot  will  do  so-and-so." 

"Doesn't  he?" 

"He  may  think  he  does ;  but  he  doesn't.  What 
he  really  does  is  this :  he  either  has  a  situation,  or 
a  central  ethical  idea,  or  one  or  more  characters. 
He  makes  a  start.  Then  one  by  one  the  situa 
tions,  the  telling  points  and  even  the  trend  of 
conversations  come  into  his  mind,  and  he  picks 
them  out.  He  doesn't  do  any  thinking  at  all,  in 
the  way  a  mathematician  invents  a  theorem.  He 
just  keeps  his  story  in  his  consciousness,  so  to 
speak;  and  things  form.  There  may  be  alter 
natives  from  which  he  has  to  make  a  choice,  but 
that's  as  far  as  he  gets.  It's  hard  to  name.  It 
isn't  thinking:  it  certainly  isn't  dreaming  idly, 
for  there  is  very  active  volition  in  it." 

"Subconscious  mind,"  she  suggested. 

"Mildewed  word.  Another  example  of  think 
ing  you've  explained  when  you've  merely  named. 
But  there's  one  thing  that  can  be  said :  the  min 
ute  you  try  to  take  hold  of  it  and  drag  it  out  with 
your  mathematical  mind  before  it's  ready,  you  get 
to  be  second  rate.  The  mathematical  part  must 
be  on  the  job  to  do  a  workmanlike  job  and  keep 
the  congruities,  mind  you." 

She  nodded  slowly.  "I  think  I  see  dimly  where 
you're  coming  out." 

"I'm  sure  you  do.     Well,  I  noticed  that  my 


ON    TIPTOE  161 

old  experience  in  the  dark  and  this  story  writing 
had  one  thing  in  common :  the  more  or  less  hold 
ing  in  abeyance  of  the  sharply  reasoning  mind. 
From  then  on  it  was  practice." 

"And  the  battery?" 

"Came  to  me  just  like  a  story,  a  little  at  a  time. 
I'm  no  mechanic,  and  I  have  no  scientific  educa 
tion.  No  one  could  be  worse  fitted  than  I  to  be 
an  inventor.  But,  like  any  one  else,  I  couldn't 
help  noticing  from  time  to  time  the  incredible 
amount  of  power  everywhere  going  to  waste,  and 
the  equally  incredible  exertions  we  have  to  make 
to  get  hold  of  what  little  power  we  do  use.  Just 
think  of  the  amount  of  power  necessary  to  raise 
and  lower  the  tides;  or  to  deliver  millions  of 
waves  on  the  beach;  or,  indeed,  to  warm  a  single 
acre  of  land  to  the  growing  point.  And  of  course 
we're  just  beginning  to  use  water  power." 

"Yes,"  she  urged  him  as  he  paused. 

"Then  one  day  when  I  was  filling  the  starting 
battery  of  my  car — I  have  got  a  car — it  struck 
me  what  a  nuisance  it  was,  and  I  wondered  if  we 
couldn't  get  a  battery  that  would  work  with  air." 

"And  then  you  figured  it  out." 

"I  did  not,"  he  disclaimed.  "I  merely  kept  it 
in  mind,  the  way  I  do  a  story,  and  it  worked  out 
its  own  plot,  bit  by  bit.  Every  once  in  a  while 
I'd  try  it,  just  the  way  I'd  try  a  story  plot,  and 
it  wouldn't  work;  so  I'd  quit  it,  and  keep  it  in 


162  ON    TIPTOE 

mind  again,  and  wait  for  another  bright  idea.  It 
took  ^me  some  time  to  tumble  to  the  fact  that  the 
plates  had  to  be  just  exactly  so  far  apart.  I  got 
a'  current — mainly  by  accident — and  it  worked 
well  for  two  or  three  days.  Then  all  at  once  it 
V  quit  on  me.  I  found  afterwards  that  probably 
the  plates  got  jarred  a  little.  It  took  me  three 
weeks  to  get  on  the  right  track.  Then  one  day 
I  said  to  myself,  'Oh,  yes,  a  micrometer  screw.' ' 

"But  you've  succeeded  at  last!" 

"To  a  certain  extent,  anyway.  There's  a  lot  to 
be  considered — whether  a  number  of  batteries 
will  all  work  together,  for  instance.  But  at  least 
I've  got  two  to  work  and  to  work  hard  for  a  long 
time.  One  horrible  thought  occurred  to  me :  that 
maybe  it  will  only  work  near  electric  plants  al 
ready  in  operation  under  the  old  methods." 

"Stealing  what's  already  been  made!    I  see!" 

"That's  why  I'm  up  in  this  wild  country,  bag 
and  baggage.  I'm  going  to  get  far  enough  away 
to  find  out.  It  seems  to  be  all  right,  though." 

He  glanced  toward  the  west. 

"I'll  go  back  on  my  statement  a  while  back," 
said  he,  "and  I'll  tell  you  accurately  what  the 
members  of  this  party  are  doing.  Your  father 
is  headed  toward  camp :  and  Simmins  and  Gardi 
ner  are  getting  hungry  and  wondering  where  we 
all  are.  Isn't  that  right,  Rapscallion?" 


ON   TIPTOE  163 

The  red-dog  uncurled,  yawned  and  stretched: 
then  announced  himself  game  for  anything. 

They  returned  to  camp  down  the  old  wood 
road.  The  evening  shadows  were  crouching 
close  to  earth,  stealing  back  and  forth  like  play 
ers  in  concealment  waiting  the  moment  to  rise 
and  take  the  stage.  Hermit  thrushes  were 
proclaiming  holiness.  They  walked  in  a  spell 
that  was  unbroken  until  the  campfire  flickered 
through  the  trees. 

"You  don't  know  how  I  appreciate  your  telling 
me  all  this,  Mr.  Davenport,"  then  said  she. 

"I  told  you  my  friends  call  me  Larry,"  he 
pointed  out:  then  at  her  slight  withdrawal,  "Oh, 
I  know  we're  supposed  to  be  recent  acquaintances 
and  all  that;  but  we're  not  really,  and  you  know 
it.  But  it  isn't  that.  I  speak  from  a  sense  of 
the  appropriate.  Now  really,  look  at  me.  Am 
I  a  Larry  looking  person  or  a  Davenport  looking 
person?"  He  cocked  his  eye  comically  in  her 
direction. 

She  laughed. 

"You're  right — Larry,"  said  she. 


CHAPTER  XV 

RIMSTEAD  did  not  appear  until  the  twi- 
light  was  ten  feet  deep  on  the  forest  floor; 
although  the  sun  still  painted  with  green-bronze 
the  tops  of  certain  trees.  He  tramped  into  camp 
savagely,  without  response  to  greetings,  hung  his 
rod  from  a  projecting  nub  on  a  tree,  threw  his 
creel  from  him,  and  plumped  himself  down  by 
the  fire. 

"Get  any  fish,  Dad?"  Burton  had  the  temerity 
to  ask. 

Grimstead  grunted  and  bit  off  the  end  of 
his  cigar. 

"I  had  a  notion  it  was  too  soon  after  the  rain," 
observed  Gardiner.  "They  never  bite  until  the 
water  has  cleared  more." 

"I  suppose  you  wouldn't  have  gone  fishing?" 
Grimstead  enquired  of  him  with  mock  politeness. 

"I  certainly  should  not,"  replied  Gardiner, 
unmoved. 

"Rather  listen  to  about  five  hundred  dollars' 
worth  of  self-starter  music,"  sneered  Grimstead. 
"I  hear  she's  still  going  strong.  You  got  any 
thing  to  say  about  what  a  damn  fool  I  was  to  go 
fishing?"  he  enquired  of  Davenport. 


164 


ON    TIPTOE  165 

"Not  a  word,"  smiled  Larry. 

"I  suppose  you  wouldn't  have  gone  fishing 
so  soon  after  the  rain,  either?"  persisted  Grim- 
stead. 

"Depends  on  how  much  I  wanted  to  go  fish 
ing,"  replied  Larry. 

"Humph!"  grunted  the  Pirate  Chief.  His 
roving  eye  rested  on  Simmins.  "How  about  you, 
Simmins?"  he  enquired  with  heavy  sarcasm.  "I 
suppose  you  wouldn't  have  gone  fishing  to-day, 
either?" 

"Yes,  sir,  quite  so,  sir,"  said  Simmins. 

Having  silenced  all  the  guns  within  range, 
Grimstead  lighted  his  cigar. 

"Well,  hang  up  my  creel  somewhere,"  he  com 
manded,  "and  bring  me  some  dry  things  for 
my  feet." 

Simmins  glided  to  where  lay  the  discarded 
creel.  He  lifted  it;  then,  with  a  surprised  air, 
lifted  the  cover  and  peered  within.  An  exclama 
tion  escaped  him  which  was  immediately  succeed 
ed  by  a  squawk  of  alarm.  Grimstead,  with  an 
incredible  agility  in  one  so  bulky,  had  leaped  to 
his  feet,  rushed  upon  him,  and  snatched  the  creel 
from  his  grasp.  Gone  now  was  the  scowl,  shaken 
the  grouch.  His  face  illumined  with  a  grin  of 
triumph,  Grimstead  pranced  to  the  fireside,  pac 
ing  high  like  an  Indian  dancer. 

"Too  soon  after  the  rain!"  he  chanted  derisive- 


166  ON    TIPTOE 

ly,  shaking  the  creel  over  his  head.  "Never  bite 
until  the  water  is  clear!  Yow!" 

He  reached  into  the  creel  and  drew  out  inch 
by  inch  a  fair  leviathan  of  a  trout,  which  he  held 
by  a  finger  in  the  gills  and  shook  in  their  faces  as 
an  Indian  shakes  his  rattle  of  pebbles. 

"Look  at  'urn!"  he  shouted.  "I'll  betcha  he 
weighs  six  pounds!  I'll  betcha  he's  two  foot  and 
a  half  long!  I'll  betcha  you  never  saw  a  trout 
like  that  before!  Won't  bite,  eh !  Oh,  no!  You 
know  that  big  pool  down  about  a  mile  below  the 
fallen  redwood?"  he  asked  Larry.  "Well,  I  got 
down  there  along  about  half -past  four  or  five 
o'clock.  Hadn't  had  a  bite,  not  a  smell.  Then 
I  began  to  use  the  old  bean — " 

"Who  is  the  one  who  objects  to  my  being 
slangy?"  interrupted  Burton  mischievously. 

But  he  brushed  her  aside.  Shaking  the  big 
rainbow  in  their  faces  to  emphasise  each  point, 
Grimstead  went  on  with  his  narration.  He  told 
every  detail,  and  he  circled  and  told  certain  of  the 
most  triumphant  details  over  again.  The  adven 
ture  of  catching  this  certain  fish  became  an  ad 
venture  which  only  a  person  of  Grimstead's 
capacity  could  have  brought  to  a  successful  con 
clusion  ;  indeed,  only  to  one  like  Grimstead  would 
discriminating  fates  have  offered  it  at  all.  When 
at  length  the  landing  net  lifted  the  prize  from  the 
water,  the  narrator  about-faced  and  started  to 


ON    TIPTOE  167 

tell  it  all  over  again  in  reverse  order;  but  Burton 
cut  him  short. 

"Now,  Dad,"  she  said  decidedly.  "You  give 
that  trout  to  Simmins  and  you  get  ready  for  sup 
per.  We're  all  famished.  It's  a  beauty,  but 
we'd  like  to  see  how  it  tastes.  Simmins,  take  the 
fish  and  clean  it." 

Grimstead  came  off  the  boil,  but  he  still  sim 
mered  pleasingly,  and  continued  to  impart  em 
bellishing  particulars  to  the  world  at  large  while 
he  prepared  to  tidy  himself  up  for  the  meal. 
Rapscallion  stepped  forward  to  where  the  trout 
dangled  from  the  horrified  Simmins,  took  one 
dainty  sniff,  and  retired  in  disgust.  The  smell  of 
raw  trout  was  not  disagreeable  to  Rapscallion 
except  by  association.  He  knew  by  experience 
that  now  he  would  be  expected  to  begin  a  fish 
diet  and  Rapscallion  considered  himself  no  sledge 
dog. 

Davenport  caught  Simmins'  distressed  eye 
and  arose. 

"Clean  it  down  stream,  Simmins,  below  where 
we  use  the  water,"  said  he,  and  disappeared  in 
the  direction  of  the  cars. 

Simmins,  taking  heart,  stumbled  toward  the 
creek  holding  the  trout  gingerly  away  from  him. 
Sure  enough  he  was  joined  by  his  benefactor. 

"Very  few  fish  on  the  dry  South  African  veldt, 
I  understand,  Simmins,"  remarked  Larry  drily. 


168  ON    TIPTOE 

"Quite  so,  sir." 

"So  I  surmise  you  don't  really  know  whether 
they  clean  trout  with  a  scrubbing  brush  or  a 
feather  duster.  That  right?" 

"The  establishments  in  which  I  have  taken 
service  have  always  maintained  young  persons 
of  inferior  station  to  perform  such  duties,  sir." 

Davenport  surveyed  him  thoughtfully. 

"Simmins,"  he  said  sadly,  "you  mustn't  pull 
that  stuff  on  me;  you  really  mustn't.  You  see, 
I'm  on.  I'd  like  to  help  you  save  your  face,  you 
poor  nut;  but  I'm  not  going  to  do  it  if  you  try  to 
bluff  me.  I  know  it's  hard :  you've  got  the  habit. 
But  why  try  it  on  a  garage  man?" 

Simmins  looked  unconvinced. 

"Shoot!"  commanded  Larry,  "what  you  keep 
ing  back?" 

"You  may  be  a  garage  man,  sir,  but  I  doubt  it. 
You  are  a  gentleman." 

"What's  that?" 

But  Simmins  refused  to  analyse. 

"One  like  yourself,  sir,"  said  he  neatly. 

Larry  shouted. 

"Well  played,  Simmins.  But  now  get  back  to 
earth.  Do  you  know  how  to  clean  that  trout?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Good!  Well,  I'm  going  to  help  you  out,  as 
usual." 


ON    TIPTOE  169 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Simmins,  and  tried  to 
hand  Larry  the  fish. 

"Not  so,"  negatived  that  young  man.  "You're 
going  to  do  it.  Take  him  in  your  left  hand,  belly 
up-" 

In  five  minutes  Simmins  possessed  a  cleaned 
rainbow  trout,  bloody,  slimy  hands,  and  a  mind 
in  which  loathing  and  barbarian  triumph  were 
strangely  mingled.  His  backbone  was  stiffer 
and  he  looked  Davenport  in  the  eye  with  what 
approached  a  comradely  grin. 

"A  bit  messy!"  he  commented;  but  without 
the  "sir."  After  all,  there  is  nothing  that  makes 
for  a  sense  of  equality  more  than  joining  in  the 
occupations  of  the  upper  classes — like  cleaning 
fish. 

The  evening  meal  was  a  jolly  one,  thanks  to 
this  trout.  Grimstead's  high  good  humour  car 
ried  all  temperamental  differences  before  it. 
Even  the  taciturn  Gardiner  unbent  to  tell  an  an 
ecdote.  Burton  was  in  the  highest  spirits,  also, 
for  she  had  what  she  considered  a  very  intriguing 
secret,  which  she  intended  to  keep  for  the  time 
being  at  least,  in  the  hope  of  extracting  from  the 
situation  still  further  amusement.  In  this  she 
was  abetted  by  Larry  Davenport  himself.  Now 
that  that  young  man  really  understood  the  posi 
tion  in  the  social  structure  he  was  supposed  to 


170  ON    TIPTOE 

fill,  he  played  up  and  became  the  Perfect  Garage 
Mechanic.  When  this  performance  drew  Sim 
mins'  puzzled  eye  Larry's  happiness  was  com 
plete. 

After  everybody  had  eaten  all  the  trout  he 
could,  and  praised  the  same  all  he  was  able,  the 
meal  was  at  an  end.  Simmins  and  Gardiner  had 
cooked  some  other  things,  but  nobody  wanted 
them. 

6 'Don't  you  care,  old  scout,"  Larry  comforted 
Simmins.  "It  is  always  that  way  with  the  first 
trout.  Take  a  tip,  and  after  this  when  the  first 
trout  of  the  season  are  brought  in  cook  just  tea 
and  bread." 

"Now,"  sighed  Grimstead  comfortably,  as  he 
struggled  to  his  thick  legs,  "if  you  young  people 
will  excuse  us,  Ross  and  I  have  a  little  business 
to  talk  over.  We'll  wander  down  toward  the 
creek." 

He  lighted  a  cigar  and,  followed  by  Gardiner, 
disappeared  in  the  darkness. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

he  demanded  of  Gardiner,  once  they 
were  settled  on  a  convenient  log.  "How 
about  it?" 

His  benign  good  humour  had  fallen  from  him, 
and  his  whole  being  had  tautened  into  a  hard 
alertness. 

"It's  been  running  without  a  break,  and  with 
out  apparent  loss  of  energy  at  any  time  up  to 
five  o'clock,  when  I  came  in  with  Simmins  to 
cook  supper." 

"Looks  like  a  good  thing,  then?" 

"It  looks  like  better  than  that  just  on  the 
showing  it's  already  made." 

"I'm  almost  beginning  to  believe  that  cock 
and  bull  story  about  his  having  come  eleven  hun 
dred  miles  with  it  already." 

"It's  not  impossible.  It  would  be  no  more  un 
precedented  than  driving  that  starter  all  day." 

"Well,  we  certainly  played  in  luck  hitting  that 
stub.  We've  got  to  tie  this  thing  down  before 
somebody  else  gets  hold  of  it.  I  wonder  if  any 
body  has?  He  might  be  tied  up  already." 

"May  be,"   agreed   Gardiner,   "but   I   don't 

171 


172  ON    TIPTOE 

think  so.  This  seems  to  be  his  first  test  of  the 
thing." 

"Well,  we  must  tie  him  up,"  said  Grimstead. 

He  fell  silent  for  so  long  that  Gardiner  at 
length  asked: 

"Going  to  buy  him  out,  chief?  You  could 
probably  get  it  cheap,  comparatively." 

"No,"  replied  the  older  man.  "I've  been  con 
sidering  that.  In  the  first  place,  I  don't  believe 
he'd  sell  out.  I've  been  sizing  him  up  pretty 
carefully,  and  I'm  pretty  sure  that  a  direct  offer 
he'd  want  advice  about,  or  want  time  to  consider. 
And,  Ross,  once  he  gets  out  of  these  redwoods 
and  consults  somebody,  it's  all  off.  Any  fool 
can  see  the  possibilities.  No,  we've  got  to  cinch 
this  thing  here  and  now." 

"Yes,  you're  right  on  that,"  agreed  Gardiner. 

"But  a  share  in  the  business  is  different — " 
went  on  Grimstead,  "perhaps  a  royalty.  I  don't 
know:  we'll  see  how  he  rises  to  it." 

"You  can  probably  make  a  good  bargain," 
agreed  Gardiner  once  more.  "He  apparently 
has  no  idea  of  the  possible  value  of  this  thing." 

Grimstead  shrugged  his  shoulders  a  little  im 
patiently. 

"Gardiner,"  said  he,  "I  sometimes  wonder  a 
little  about  you!" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Gardiner,  star 
tled  at  the  tone. 


ON    TIPTOE  173 

"Your  technical  knowledge  is  beyond  praise; 
but  you've  got  the  most  awful  blind  spots." 

"I'm  sorry,  chief,  but  what  is  it  this  time?" 
begged  Gardiner,  whose  diplomacy  was  no  small 
part  of  his  success. 

"I  gather  you  think  we  could  drive  a  cheap 
bargain  with  this  young  man?" 

Gardiner  considered  his  reply  for  a  moment. 

"Yes,"  he  said  finally,  with  conviction.  "I 
think  we  could — before  he  gets  talking  with 
some  one  else." 

"Of  course  we  could,  but  we  won't." 

"Sir?" 

"I  say  we  won't.  I'll  offer  him  the  very 
largest  share  I  can,  or  the  highest  royalties  pos 
sible  consistent  with  control  and  good  business. 
See  why?" 

Gardiner  hesitated;  then  shook  his  head. 

"Well,  either  this  is  a  whopping  big  thing,  or 
it  is  a  flivver.  If  it's  a  flivver  it  doesn't  matter 
if  we  give  him  the  whole  works :  it  would  be  giv 
ing  him  nothing.  But  suppose  it  turns  out  to 
be  a  world  beater  and  we've  made  a  sharp  bar 
gain.  Either  he,  or  some  one  else,  is  going  to 
buck.  Then  there's  law  suits  and  infringements 
without  end.  If,  however,  we  have  at  the  very 
start,  before  the  thing  is  proved  up  at  all,  given 
him  a  full  share,  then  when  it  turns  out  big  he'll 
stay  with  us.  Get  it?" 


174  ON    TIPTOE 

"Yes,  sir,  I  do.  You're  right,"  said  Gardiner. 
He  saw  the  point  quickly  enough,  once  it  was 
pointed  out  to  him,  for  he  was  clever.  This  sort 
of  thing  was  why  Grimstead  was  the  Chief  and 
not  the  Second  in  Command. 

They  returned  to  the  fireside,  where  Burton 
and  Larry  were  teasing  Rapscallion,  while  Punk- 
etty-Sniwles  cast  malicious  animal  magnetism 
at  them. 

"Well,  young  man,"  said  Grimstead  directly, 
"your  battery  seems  to  be  making  good.  There's 
no  doubt  that  you  have  a  big  thing  there.  I  don't 
know  just  how  big:  that  will  have  to  be  tested 
out  pretty  exhaustively.  But  even  as  a  small 
battery  it  is  big:  and  it  may  conceivably  run  into 
power." 

"I  believe  it  will,"  said  Davenport.  "As  I 
told  you,  I  believe  it  will  either  run  tandem  with 
as  many  others  as  we  can  hitch  on,  or  maybe  in 
crease  of  size  would  do  it." 

"Maybe.  That  would  be  a  matter  of  experi 
ment.  But  it's  good  enough  to  market  as  it  is. 
Ever  thought  of  it?" 

"Yes,  of  course.  But  I've  never  been  sure 
enough  it  was  going  to  work  to  do  anything 
about  it." 

Grimstead  cast  an  eye  of  triumph  toward 
Gardiner. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "I  am  considerably  in  the 


ON    TIPTOE  175 

electric  line  myself.    What  would  you  think  of 
taking  it  up  with  me?" 

"I  was  going  to  propose  it  myself,  after  you 
had  satisfied  yourself  the  thing  was  going  to 


run." 


"Good !  Now  I'm  not  going  to  insult  your  in 
telligence  by  trying  to  buy  outright,"  said  Grim- 
stead,  craftily  gaining  merit  from  his  decision. 
"You'd  know  better  than  that.  There  are  two 
other  methods.  By  one  you  would  get  a  certain 
amount  of  stock  in  the  company.  By  the  other 
you  would  be  paid  a  definite  royalty.  In  the 
first  instance  you  would  have  a  voice  in  manage 
ment,  and  also  responsibility.  In  the  second  in 
stance  you  would  be  relieved  from  all  trouble, 
but  would  have  nothing  to  say." 

"I  see  the  difference,"  Davenport  nodded. 
"But  I  don't  believe  I  could  decide  as  to  my 
choice  until  I  heard  a  more  definite  proposition 
of  each  kind.  How  much  stock  would  I  get,  and 
how  much  royalty?" 

Grimstead  here  showed  further  his  qualifica 
tion  for  chiefhood  by  shooting  back  his  proposal. 
He  had  thought  it  all  out,  and  was  ready. 

"In  either  case  you  should  be  a  millionaire," 
he  concluded. 

"I  don't  know  that  being  a  millionaire  particu 
larly  interests  me,"  rejoined  Davenport  thought 
fully.  "I've  seen  a  lot  of  those  birds  in  my  time, 


176  ON    TIPTOE 

and  their  money  seems  to  have  done  something 
to  even  the  best  of  them  that  I'm  not  sure  I'd  like 
done  to  me." 

"Well,"  suggested  Grimstead  jocularly, 
"there'd  be  no  objection  to  cutting  down  your 
share,  if  that's  the  difficulty." 

Davenport  laughed. 

"Oh,  I'm  no  ass!"  he  replied.  "If  I  don't 
want  to  be  a  millionaire  I  can  probably  arrange 
it  for  myself." 

"Marry  a  girl  who  knows  how,"  suggested 
Grimstead,  grinning  at  Burton,  who  flushed 
angrily. 

"I'm  no  ass!"  repeated  Davenport.  "That's 
the  sort  of  girl  who  insists  that  you  keep  on  being 
a  millionaire." 

"No,  you're  no  ass,"  agreed  Grimstead  unex 
pectedly,  "and  you're  no  garage  man.  I  don't 
know  who  you  are,  but  you  can't  bluff  me." 

Burton  glanced  at  him  amusedly. 

"The  royalty  idea  appeals  to  me,"  continued 
Davenport,  paying  no  attention  to  the  byplay, 
"for  I  certainly  do  not  want  to  get  mixed  up  in 
affairs  unless  I  have  to.  But  I  do  feel  responsi 
bility  in  turning  a  thing  like  this  loose  without  at 
least  trying  to  do  my  part." 

"You'd  find  the  business  part  of  it  in  pretty 
competent  hands,"  Grimstead  assured  him. 

"I  do  not  doubt  that  for  a  moment,"  said 


ON    TIPTOE  177 

Davenport  earnestly.  "I  shouldn't  have  a  mo 
ment's  uneasiness  on  that  score.  I'm  thinking 
of  the  world  at  large." 

"World  at  large?"  repeated  Grimstead,  a  little 
blankly. 

"Yes.  You,  of  course,  have  not  thought  of 
this  as  much  as  I  have,  for  it  is  a  new  proposi 
tion  to  you.  But  I've  been  pondering  on  it  for 
a  very  long  while.  It's  the  terrific  upset  in  in 
dustry  that  must  come  from  this." 

"Of  course  there  will  be  readjustments,'* 
agreed  Grimstead. 

"But  just  stop  to  follow  this  out.  Let's  sup 
pose,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  this  battery 
is  all  it  might  be ;  that  it  is  a  genuine  short  cut  to 
unlimited  power.  There  would  be  no  sense  in 
mining  another  pound  of  coal,  of  cutting  another 
stick  of  cordwood,  of  turning  another  dynamo, 
of  making  another  steam  or  gas  engine.  Just  in 
the  field  of  the  domestic,  every  man  could  have 
one  or  more  down  cellar  by  which  he  could  light 
and  heat  his  house,  cook  his  food,  and  turn  what 
ever  appliances  he  might  have  to  turn.  The  gas 
and  electric  companies  would  simply  have  to  go 
out  of  business.  Why  should  anybody  buy  any 
thing  of  them?  The  hydroelectric  companies 
would  close.  The  oil  companies  would  not  close, 
but  they'd  be  largely  reduced  and  crippled. 
Those  are  the  principal  things.  But  reaching  out 


178  ON    TIPTOE 

from  that,  think  of  the  correlated  industries  that 
would  be  more  or  less  affected— 

"I've  got  that  kind  of  imagination,  young 
man,"  interrupted  Grimstead  drily.  "I'd  al 
ready  considered  all  that." 

"Of  course,"  smiled  Davenport,  relapsing  from 
his  tense  eagerness.  "And  then  besides  the  hun 
dreds  of  millions  of  dollars  of  capital,  there  are 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  workmen  who  would 
be  thrown  out  of  employment  for  a  time  until 
the  readjustment  had  been  made." 

"Why,  it  sounds  terrible!"  cried  Burton. 

"That's  why  I  say  there's  a  responsibility  con 
nected  with  it.  All  this  capital  and  these  works 
of  various  kinds  and  these  workmen  will  find 
other  and  probably  more  ultimately  useful  things 
to  do  after  a  time.  Everybody  expected  the 
breweries  and  wine  grape  vineyards  to  shut  up 
shop  when  prohibition  came  in,  but  they  man 
aged  to  find  something  to  make.  But  they  should 
be  given  time.  It  shouldn't  be  sprung  on  them 
all  at  once." 

"What  would  be  your  suggestion?"  asked 
Grimstead,  who  was  watching  the  flushed  young 
man  through  narrowed  lids. 

Davenport  laughed  boyishly. 

"My  goodness!  That's  a  large  order!  But  I 
suppose  it  might  be  fed  out  through  a  single  in- 


ON    TIPTOE  179 

dustry  at  first— say,  motor  boat  engines,  or  some 
thing  of  that  kind.  If  we  held  the  patents,  we 
could  regulate  that  exactly." 

"I  see  your  point,  Mr.  Davenport,  of  course. 
Then  you  think  that  the  stock  proposition  ap 
peals  to  you  most?" 

"It  doesn't  appeal  to  me  the  most,"  disclaimed 
Davenport.  "Far  from  it.  But  I  guess  it's  what 
I  ought  to  have." 

"Very  well,"  returned  Gardiner  decisively. 
"Gardiner,  get  your  note  book  and  take  this." 

Gardiner  had  risen  from  the  post  of  private 
secretary  and  so  took  shorthand. 

"Draw  me  up  a  proper  contract  embodying 
these  points,"  Grimstead  instructed  him.  "Pat 
ents  in  name  of  Universal  Power  Corporation. 
Capital  stock  one  hundred  thousand  shares,  no 
par  value,  non-assessable.  Forty  per  cent  to 
Mr.  Davenport.  Sixty  to  me.  I  to  furnish  all 
working  capital.  Manufacture  to  commence 
within  three  months.  One  hundred  thousand 
dollars  to  be  paid  Mr.  Davenport  as  bonus  cash 
payment  on  the  conclusion  of  the  first  one  thou 
sand  bona  fide  sales.  That  satisfactory  as  far 
as  it  goes?" 

The  attentive  youth  nodded. 
"All  right.    Now  just  to  cover  the  point  you 
brought  up,  add  this:  that  for  the  first  five  years 


180  ON    TIPTOE 

Mr.  Davenport  is  to  have  the  veto  right  as  to 
any  contemplated  extensions  of  business.  That 
ought  to  suit  you,  Davenport." 

"That's  fine!"  cried  the  young  man,  his  brow 
clearing.  "I  was  trying  to  figure  how  I  would 
have  anything  to  say  with  only  forty  per  cent  of 
the  stock  and  yet  I  realise  perfectly  that  the 
business  control  should  be  in  the  business  hands." 

"All  right.  Get  your  typewriter  and  put  it  in 
shape,  Ross." 

Gardiner  disappeared  with  a  flashlight  in  the 
direction  of  the  car,  to  return  after  a  few  mo 
ments  carrying  a  portable  typewriter.  Grim- 
stead  met  him  just  at  the  circle  of  firelight. 

"No  shenanigan  about  this,  Ross,"  he  warned 
in  a  low  voice.  "I  want  this  contract  drawn  ab 
solutely  fairly,  so  that  any  lawyer  he  may  con 
sult  will  approve  of  it.  I  don't  want  a  chance 
for  an  objection  once  we  leave  this  place." 

"I  understand  that  part  of  it,  but — " 

"He's  one  of  those  lily-whites,"  growled  Grim- 
stead.  "I've  got  him  located  now.  Full  of  up 
lift  and  shy  of  horse  sense.  I  know  'em;  and 
they've  got  to  be  handled.  He's  cuckoo  on  the 
service-to-humanity  stuff." 

"I  don't  quite  get  your  giving  him  that  veto 
right—" 

"Too  long:  I'll  tell  you  to-morrow." 

"Do  I  get  some  of  this  stock?" 


ON    TIPTOE  181 

'Til  take  care  of  you — and  I'll  use  you! 
Don't  you  worry !  Come  fishing  with  me  to-mor 
row  and  we'll  talk  it  over.  Oh,  one  more  thing: 
the  chances  are  that  he  won't  sign  any  contract 
without  seeing  a  lawyer,  no  matter  how  well  sat 
isfied  he  is  with  its  provisions.  He'll  want  to  see 
if  it's  technically  all  right.  So  draw  up  a  sub 
sidiary  agreement  on  his  part  to  sign  the  contract 
provided  his  lawyer — get  his  name — pronounces 
it  technically  correct.  We'll  get  him  to  sign  that 
anyway;  and  that  will  tie  him  up." 

It  was  near  ten  o'clock  before  the  little  type 
writer  ceased  clicking;  and  about  eleven  when 
Davenport  affixed  his  signature  to  the  agreement 
to  sign.  As  Grimstead  had  foreseen,  he  did  not 
want  to  sign  the  contract  itself  without  expert 
advice  as  to  its  form ;  but,  being  satisfied  with  its 
'substance,  he  was  willing  to  agree  to  that. 

"Now,"  cried  Grimstead,  heaving  himself  erect 
with  a  joyous  bellow,  "we'll  demonstrate  what 
an  unprincipled  old  law  breaker  you  have  hooked 
up  with.  Simmins,  bring  me  my  black  bag." 
He  produced  a  small  key  on  the  end  of  a  gold 
chain  and  unlocked  the  black  "bag,"  which  was 
more  like  a  deep  and  stiff  suitcase.  Simmins 
eyed  the  key  sadly.  He  had  never  been  able,  try 
as  he  might,  to  duplicate  it.  The  two  sides  of 
the  box,  on  being  opened  wide  on  their  hinges, 
disclosed  a  velvet-lined  interior  filled  with  appro- 


182  ON    TIPTOE 

priate  notches  and  slots  into  which  fitted  six  bot 
tles.  Other  notches  carried  two  nests  of  tum 
blers. 

"Water,  lemons,  sugar!"  commanded  Grim- 
stead. 

He  set  out  on  the  ground  before  him  four  of 
the  tumblers  and  poured  into  each  a  generous 
measure  from  one  of  the  bottles. 

' 'Illegal  to  transport  without  a  permit,"  he 
chuckled. 

He  reached  up  a  hand  for  the  ingredients  and 
caught  Simmins'  eye,  after  which  he  fumbled 
again  in  the  box  and  set  out  another  tumbler. 
The  psychic  could  then  have  heard  beatific  peace 
plunking  into  Simmins'  soul. 

The  drinks  mixed,  Simmins  handed  one  to 
each.  Grimstead  arose. 

"Here's  to  the  Universal  Power  Corpora 
tion!"  he  proposed. 

"And  to  its  inventor,"  supplemented  Burton. 

"And  to  its  commercial  genius,"  added  the 
diplomatic  Gardiner,  looking  toward  his  chief. 

"And  to  its  inspiration,"  concluded  Larry 
boldly,  lifting  his  glass  to  Burton. 

They  drank.  Larry  saw  the  toil-driven  mil 
lions,  and  the  lifting  of  yet  another  of  the  great 
Pressures  of  life.  Burton  saw  confusedly  an 
angel  with  a  flaming  sword  somehow  reopening 
by  a  crack  the  gates  of  Eden.  Gardiner  con- 


ON    TIPTOE  183 

templated  a  vision  of  great  activity  and  great 
wealth.  Grimstead  was  smiling.  What  he  saw 
the  great  invisible  Intelligences  too  were  per 
ceiving  through  the  lenses  of  his  soul.  They  did 
not  smile. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

fTl  HE  next  morning  the  corduroying  across  the 
A  meadow  was  finished  and  a  new  road  around 
the  fallen  giant  was  begun. 

"My  light  car  could  make  it  now,"  said  Larry, 
"but  we'd  better  make  a  road  for  yours." 

"The  people  who  come  for  it  could  do  that," 
suggested  Gardiner. 

"Depends  on  how  busy  they  are.  I  know 
them.  It  won't  hurt  us  to  put  in  our  time." 

To  this  Grimstead  agreed.  In  his  younger 
days  he  had  been  a  good  axeman,  a  fact  which  he 
had  proved  sufficiently  to  Davenport  to  enable 
him  to  coax  the  precious  axe  from  that  young 
man's  custody.  Now  he  enjoyed  chopping  at 
the  light  stuff  and  the  soft-wood  debris.  At 
noon,  however,  they  laid  off  for  the  day. 

"If  you're  going  fishing  again,"  suggested 
Davenport,  "and  want  to  try  the  fly,  you  might 
go  upstream.  The  water  will  be  clearer  up 
there.  It's  pretty  rough  and  thick  going  if  you 
try  to  follow  the  stream,  but  look  here — ' 

He  squatted  woodsman  fashion  on  his  heels  in 
front  of  Grimstead  and  proceeded  to  trace  a  map 
on  the  smooth  earth. 

"Just  north  of  here  she  makes  a  bend,  this 

184 


ON    TIPTOE  185 

way,  around  the  hill  that  lies  just  back  of  us. 
Now  if  you  strike  due  east  from  here  you'll  run 
into  an  old  wood  road,  about  half  a  mile.  Fol 
low  that  to  the  remains  of  an  old  clearing  atop 
the  ridge.  That's  where  we  were  yesterday,"  he 
turned  to  Burton.  "Now  if  you  angle  to  the 
north,  and  take  the  northerly  swale  out  of  a 
clump  of  willows,  you'll  come  to  the  stream  again 
and  you  can  then  fish  it  right  to  camp.  Better 
make  up  your  mind  to  wade.  It's  about  a  mile 
and  a  half  over  the  hill,  and  it  gives  you  some 
where  near  five  miles  of  fishing  water." 

"Big  ones?"  enquired  Grimstead. 

"Nothing  like  you  caught  yesterday.     But 


nice  ones." 


Grimstead  considered. 

"Upstream  it  is,"  he  decided.  "But  to-mor 
row,  I  warn  you,  I'm  going  downstream  again 
and  catch  a  whale." 

"There's  one  thing:  be  sure  you  get  the  most 
northerly  swale.  The  country  star-fishes  up 
there,  and  if  you  get  to  following  the  wrong 
canon  you'll  end  lost." 

"You  better  come  along,  Ross,"  said  Grim- 
stead.  "Go  get  your  tackle." 

Gardiner  disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the 
car,  and  was  gone  so  long  that  Grimstead  be 
came  fidgetty.  Gardiner  seemed  to  have  a  great 
deal  of  tackle  to  rig  and  clothes  to  put  on. 


186  ON    TIPTOE 

"Here,"  said  Grimstead  at  last,  "I'm  going 
to  make  a  start.  You  follow  along  when  you  get 
ready.  I'll  strike  the  stream  and  fish  down,  and 
you  keep  going  until  you  find  me." 

"I  won't  be  a  second,"  protested  Gardiner. 

"That's  all  right,"  growled  Grimstead,  "then 
you  won't  have  so  far  to  catch  up." 

He  tramped  off  sturdily,  and  was  almost  at 
once  struck  small  by  the  gigantic  forest.  Ten 
minutes  later,  after  vexatious  delays  having  to 
do  with  leaders  and  the  disentangling  thereof, 
Gardiner  followed.  Simmins  approached. 

"There  would  seem  to  be  no  occasion  for  my 
further  presence,  sir?"  he  suggested,  indicating 
with  a  turn  of  the  head  the  direction  of  the  pa 
tiently  labouring  self-starter. 

"We  seem  to  be  safe  for  the  present,"  agreed 
Davenport.  "Why?  What's  on  your  mind?" 

"I  thought  I  would  like  to  try  my  luck,  sir." 

"Sure.  Go  to  it!  Better  go  downstream, 
though.  Know  anything  about  fishing?" 

Simmins  hesitated.  Three  days  ago  he  would 
have  replied  to  the  effect  that  he  had  invented 
fishing. 

"Very  little,  sir,"  he  confessed.  Simmins  was 
coming  on. 

Davenport  arose. 

"Well,  you  for  the  willow  pole  and  split  shot 
combination,"  said  he. 


ON    TIPTOE  187 

In  five  minutes  Simmins  departed  bearing  the 
aforementioned  willow  pole  rigged  with  a  short 
line,  split  shot  sinker,  and  the  hook  of  a  number 
six  fly  from  which  the  feathers  had  been  stripped. 
In  his  side  coat  pocket  were  two  tin  cans,  one  of 
which  contained  worms  and  the  other  white 
grubs. 

"Now,"  admonished  Davenport,  "when  you 
find  a  pool,  or  a  smooth  behind  a  rock  or  log, 
sneak  up  on  it  very  gently,  and  just  drop  your 
bait  in  the  middle  of  it.  When  you  get  a  bite, 
heave!  Don't  try  to  play  your  fish.  Yank  him 
out  before  he  can  yank  himself  loose." 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Simmins  blissfully.  Al 
ready  he  had  a  complete  drama  in  cold  storage, 
conversations  and  all,  having  to  do  with  his  re 
turn  at  eventide  carrying  a  long  string  of  shining 
beauties  to  find  that  Grimstead  and  Gardiner, 
for  all  their  fancy  tackle,  had  succeeded  in  land 
ing  only  four,  and  they  rather  small.  Simmins 
was  at  first  inclined  to  bring  them  in  with  empty 
creels,  but  reconsidered.  He  felt  this  was  rather 
handsome  of  him,  and  experienced  a  glow  of 
generosity.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  his  subcon 
scious,  artistic  sense  taught  him  it  would  be  more 
effective  if  they  had  four  small  ones.  Later  he 
added  a  telling  touch.  Gardiner  met  him  just 
out  of  sight  of  camp  and  tried  to  buy  all  or  part 
of  his  string  from  him. 


188  ON    TIPTOE 

"Simmins,"  he  implored,  his  haughty,  purse- 
proud  manner  dropping  from  him  in  his  earnest 
ness,  "to  one  of  your  known  piscatorial  reputa 
tion  this  is  a  small  matter,  but  to  me  it  is  every 
thing.  How  can  I  appear  before  Miss  Burton 
'empty  handed?  To  win  her  bright  regard  it  is 
necessary  that  I  come  to  her  bearing  the  fruits 
of  success." 

Simmins  cast  upon  him  a  glance  in  which  pity 
and  lofty  contempt  were  admirably  blended. 

"I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Gardiner,"  he  replied,  "but 
some  things  there  are  that  gold  cannot  buy.  My 
honour  is  dear  to  me.  I  cannot  be  party  to  de 
ception  no  matter  what  the  guerdon.  Out  of 
consideration  for  your  station  I  will  say  nothing 
of  this  episode;  but  do  not  so  approach  me 
again." 

Then  came  the  entrance  with  the  string  of 
fish.  Curtain  as  before. 

Simmins  stored  away  his  paraphernalia  and 
took  his  departure.  Rapscallion  rose  to  his  fore 
legs  and  looked  after  him,  ears  pricked.  The  or 
dinary  fishing  excursion  left  Rapscallion  rather 
worse  than  cold.  There  was  no  interest  in  such 
excursions;  and  some  danger.  You  walked  a 
few  steps  at  a  time,  and  lay  down,  and  yawned, 
and  slept,  and  waited  some  more  while  your  mas 
ter  puttered  and  puttered  and  puttered  in  one 
spot  busy  on  his  silly  affairs.  If  you  approached 


ON    TIPTOE  189 

near  enough  to  experience  a  sense  of  companion 
ship,  you  were  ordered  sternly  to  a  distance. 
Occasionally  a  curious  and  violent  agitation  took 
place  in  the  water,  which  evidently  had  merit  as 
an  exciting  agency.  At  least  you  got  vibrations 
from  master  to  that  effect.  Row,  turmoil,  dash 
ing  about!  It  would  seem  a  meet  and  sufficient 
opportunity  for  a  little  contributory  barking, 
with  alarums  and  short  excursions  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  combat:  not  with  any  idea  of  grab 
bing  the  thing,  mind  you,  but  by  way  of  intelli 
gent  interest.  You'd  think  so,  wouldn't  you? 
Not  at  all!  Try  it.  You'll  get  pebbles  heaved 
at  you,  and  be  ordered  harshly.  And  when  you 
are  allowed — or  encouraged — to  approach  and 
examine  the  quarry  after  it  is  subdued,  what  do 
you  find?  A  slippery,  cold  and  smelly  fish! 
Not  for  Rapscallion!  He  much  preferred  to 
stay  in  camp. 

But  as  he  gazed  after  Simmins  something  ata 
vistic  stirred  in  his  brain.  Some  of  Rapscallion's 
ancestors  must  have  had  happier  experiences  at 
this  type  of  field  sport.  The  pictures  were  not 
in  Rapscallion's  memory,  but  the  inherited  im 
pressions  were  in  his  consciousness;  impressions 
dimly  felt  of  ragged  small  boys  with  willow  poles 
like  this — and  happy  leaping  barkings  before, 
behind,  all  around  as  a  clover  field  was  crossed 
— and  snuggling  bright-eyed  and  eager  next  a 


190  ON    TIPTOE 

small  thinly  clad  form — and  a  dark  pool  be 
low — :  and  then  suddenly  a  wild  yank,  a  spray 
of  water,  a  silvery  form  sailing  through  the  air 
in  a  wide  arc  overhead,  and  a  wild  dash  of  boy 
and  dog  to  fall  with  shouts  on  the  leaping  thing 
in  the  grass — fun!  Rapscallion's  eyes  lighted. 
He  licked  his  chops.  Then,  with  Punketty- 
Snivvles  slavishly  at  heel,  he  followed  Simmins. 

Burton,  coming  from  her  tent  a  few  minutes 
later,  found  Larry  smoking  his  pipe  alone. 

"Deserted.  Everybody.  Even  the  dogs,"  he 
answered  her  enquiry.  "Like  to  go  walking? 
Different  kind?" 

"Surely!"  she  cried  eagerly. 

This  time  they  headed  straight  up  the  stream, 
keeping  just  outside  the  edge  of  the  willow 
thicket.  The  walking  was  not  so  good  as  in  the 
higher  forest,  but  there  were  more  flowers,  birds 
and  sunshine.  The  creek  shouted  or  muttered 
behind  the  screen,  or  occasionally  flashed  at  them 
through  an  opening.  After  a  quarter  mile  the 
willows  pinched  out  and  the  trees  drew  closer. 

"Not  much  farther,"  promised  Larry.  "This 
is  pretty  rough  going." 

"I  thought  you  said  this  was  to  be  a  walk!" 
she  scorned. 

"Not  at  all,"  he  rejoined,  unmoved.  "I  said 
we'd  go  walking,  not  take  a  walk.  Vast  dif 
ference." 


ON    TIPTOE  191 

"That's  a  quibble.    But  then  we're  going  some 
where  definite?" 

"Very  definite." 

But  he  refused  to  be  more  explicit.  After  an 
other  half  mile  the  hill,  which  had  been  lying  to 
their  right,  swung  around  as  though  to  cross 
their  path.  Here,  evidently,  the  stream  made 
the  bend  back  Larry  had  described  to  Grim- 
stead,  though  as  they  approached  Burton  could 
not  for  the  life  of  her  see  where  it  could  break 
through  what  seemed  to  be  a  continuous  rampart. 
Indeed  only  at  fairly  touching  distance  did  it  be 
come  evident  that  two  ranges  in  echelon  made 
between  themselves  a  narrow  gorge.  Here  at 
the  entrance  stood  detached  a  fragment  of  rock, 
big  as  a  summer  cottage,  square  as  a  cube  of 
sugar.  Its  perpendicular  sides  were  grown  with 
ferns,  maidenhair,  miner's  lettuce  and  a  half  hun 
dred  other  tiny  plants  and  mosses.  To  the  rear 
of  this  Larry  led  the  way.  Here  it  lost  its 
apparent  inaccessibility.  A  jagged  heap  of  talus 
and  debris  gave  a  rather  rough  passage  to  the 
top. 

"Pretty  scrambly,"  said  he.  "Think  you  can 
make  it?" 

She  scorned  reply,  but  began  at  once  to  scram 
ble  up  over  the  rough  and  jagged  talus.  Daven 
port  watched  the  poise  of  her  light  and  grace 
ful  figure  for  a  moment,  then  followed. 


192  ON    TIPTOE 

The  top  of  the  rock  was  perfectly  flat,  but  at 
two  elevations,  one  two  feet  higher  than  the  other. 
It  was  carpeted  deep  with  moss. 

"Hop  down,"  advised  Larry,  himself  descend 
ing  to  the  lower  of  the  two  elevations.  "Now 
sit  down  and  lean  your  back.  Can  you  beat 
this?" 

The  natural  seat  thus  formed  and  cushioned 
commanded  to  the  right  a  view  up  the  stream 
which  at  this  point  ran  straight  and  wide  for 
some  distance.  Directly  ahead  was  the  slope  of 
the  ridge,  elusively  sensed  through  the  screen 
of  underbrush  which  here  the  slant  of  the  ground 
caused  to  rise.  To  the  left  the  view  was  open, 
above  the  brush,  and  down  through  the  spaced 
and  tremendous  distances  between  the  redwood 
trunks.  A  cool  air  breathed  down  the  stream, 
diluting  the  spiced,  aromatic  sun-warmth  of  the 
forest.  Sunlight  played  unweariedly  dancing. 
Birds  flitted  and  midges  hovered  in  the  sun. 

"I  want  to  know  more  about  this  gift  of 
yours,"  demanded  Burton  after  a  time.  "You 
said,  didn't  you,  that  you  thought  everybody 
ought  to  have  it?" 

"Yes,  I  do  believe  it  belongs  normally  in  the 


race." 


"Could  I  do  it— with  practice?" 

"I'm  certain  of  it." 

"Why?" 


ON    TIPTOE  193 

"Well,  you're  young,  and  you  haven't  been 
much  spoiled  yet  by  your  kind  of  life." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  she  demanded, 
a  little  hotly. 

"Very  rotten  influence,  your  kind  of  a  life, 
after  a  certain  age,  on  the  average,"  said  Daven 
port  without  heed  to  her  tone.  "Doesn't  do 
much  harm  while  you're  in  the  A  B  C's  of  life, 
except  that  it's  likely  to  be  bad  preparation 
for  the  D  E  F's.  But  no  immediate  harm." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said  drily.  "I'm  young  and 
unspoiled — probably  good-hearted !  Anything 
else?  That  hardly  seems  like  adequate  rea 


son." 


He  turned  to  her  with  his  disarmingly  boyish 
smile. 

"No.  You're  right.  That  isn't  much  of  a 
reason,  except  after  the  fact.  The  truth  is  I 
know  you  can  do  this  the  same  way  I  knew 
the  tree  was  going  to  fall  or  what  the  ants  were 
going  to  do." 

"Oh!"  she  cried,  her  resentment  lost  in  eager 
ness.  "I  want  to  try!  How  do  you  start?" 

He  smiled. 

"This  is  no  conjuring  trick  to  be  learned:  it's 
a  good  healthy  faculty  to  be  developed.  You've 
got  to  relax  utterly;  and  then,  when  you're  all 
relaxed  so  not  a  muscle  is  tensed  anywhere  in 
your  body,  you've  got  to  relax  something  inside 


194  OX    TIPTOE 

of  you  that  you  hold  tight  together  for  every 
day  life — something  in  your  consciousness.  Then 
things  just  float  in  and  you  leave  them  alone 
for  future  reference.  If  you  start  to  think  of 
them  or  examine  them  or  appraise  them  at  the 
time,  then  your  inner  relaxation  is  spoiled  and 
you  don't  get  anything  more.  Is  that  sufficiently 
vague  for  you?" 

"I  get  a  kind  of  idea,"  she  said  slowly. 

"You've  got  to  grope  until  you  feel  it  once," 
he  warned. 

"I'm  going  to  begin  now,"  she  announced. 

He  leaned  back  in  a  comfortable  position  to 
watch  her.  She  had  laid  aside  her  hat,  and  the 
cool  air  current  was  stirring  the  hair  at  her 
temples.  Little  by  little  her  form  fell  into  the 
simple,  restful  curves  of  relaxation;  one  by  one 
even  the  smaller  muscles  relinquished  their  guard. 
Her  face  took  on  the  dreamy  and  far-away 
peacefulness  of  a  sleeping  child's.  Then  her  eyes 
became  remote,  and  she  sat  there  in  the  altar 
rock  in  the  ancient  forest  gazing  into  infinities. 
Davenport  watched  her  at  first  keenly,  then  with 
satisfaction,  and  then,  as  his  eyes  continued  to 
rest  on  her  wistful  and  childlike  countenance  a 
great  tenderness  and  longing  crept  from  beneath 
his  customary  repression  and  looked  forth  at  her 
unashamed. 

Thus  fifteen  minutes  passed.    Then  she  stirred 


ON    TIPTOE  195 

slightly,  and  the  ordinary  animation  of  life 
flowed  slowly  back  into  her  attitude  and  expres 
sion. 

"Well?"  asked  Davenport  at  last. 

"It  was  certainly  very  curious,"  she  confessed. 
"I  can't  make  it  out." 

"What  seemed  to  happen?"  he  urged. 

"Why,  nothing.  That's  the  curious  part.  I 
didn't  go  to  sleep  or  anything.  I  saw  the  forest 
all  the  time,  and  I  felt  you  next  me,  but — " 

"Yes?"  he  encouraged. 

"This  is  silly."  She  shook  herself.  "Now  let's 
see:  I  didn't  seem  to  be  all  there.  One  part  of 
me  wasn't  there;  the  everyday  part." 

"That's  what  I  mean  by  setting  your  work-a- 
day  mind  aside,"  he  explained. 

"Yes,  I  gather  that.  But  somehow  the  atmos 
phere  seemed  different — I  mean  the  air  that  is 
all  around  and  through  me.  Oh,  dear!  I  don't 
know  what  I  mean!" 

"What  about  the  air?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  somehow  it  seemed  alive. 
It  was  like  the  difference  between  still  water  and 
boiling  water." 

"You've  got  it,"  he  cried,  "or  at  least  a  start 
at  it.  I  think  it's  wonderful  to  get  all  that  the 
first  trial!  It  ought  to  take  years!" 

"It  scared  me  a  little,"  she  confessed.  "I 
didn't  know  it  was  going  to  be  so — so  active.  I 


196  ON    TIPTOE 

thought  you'd  just  go  blank  in  the  mind  and 
thoughts  would  drift  in." 

"Why  shouldn't  it  be  active?"  he  pointed  out. 
"The  whole  universe  is  active." 

"It  scared  me  a  little  just  the  same,"  she  re 
peated.  "Are  you  sure  I  won't  go  in  a  trance 
or  something  if  I  do  that?" 

"Well,  I'm  a  pretty  healthy  specimen,"  said 
Larry.  "My  own  belief  is  that  it's  as  normal  a 
process  as  when  you  focus  your  mind  to  add  up 
your  accounts." 

He  hesitated,  and  the  sunburn  on  his  cheeks 
seemed  to  deepen  a  little. 

"Did — did  you  get  any — well,  thoughts?"  he 
enquired. 

She  looked  straight  ahead,  and  her  colour  too 
deepened. 

"Nothing — nothing  particular,"  she  replied 
steadily  enough.  "I  really  couldn't  expect  much 
of  anything  the  first  trial,  could  I?" 

"Are  we  going  to  waste  time?"  he  asked  gently. 

She  did  not  reply.  After  waiting  a  moment 
he  reached  out  and  took  her  hand.  She  half 
withdrew  it;  then  abandoned  it  to  him. 

"You  did  see,"  he  insisted.  "You  saw  what 
I  saw  yesterday  when  we  were  in  the  old  orchard, 
what  I  have  felt  from  the  very  first  instant  I  saw 
you  standing  in  the  firelight,  beautiful  as  the 
night." 


ON    TIPTOE  197 

She  struggled  painfully. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  tell  you!"  she  cried 
in  desperation  at  last.  "Somehow  I  cannot  help 
but  be  honest." 

"It  would  be  no  use  otherwise;  I  know,"  he 
told  her.  "I'll  tell  you  what  I  saw.  Part  of  it 
I  knew  already;  that  I  loved  you,  that  the  very 
air  you  breathed  was  by  that  made  radiant  to 
me,  that  where  you  stood  was  light  and  all  other 
places  darkness.  But  I  saw  also  that  we  were 
mates.  Those  things  run  deeper  than  our  fancies, 
deeper  than  even  the  infatuation  that  may  last 
through  a  whole  lifetime.  I  saw  that,  and  I  know 
it  is  eternally  true." 

She  turned  on  him  troubled  eyes. 

"I  don't  know  why  I  talk  and  act  this  way. 
It  seems  almost  shameless.  I  do  not  understand 
it.  But  somehow  I  cannot  hide  and  dodge  and 
retreat  and  flirt  as  I —  It  is  impossible.  I  do 
not  know  what  it  is  that  has  come  to  me,  Larry, 
and  you  must  wait  until  I  find  out.  I  have  been 
made  love  to  before  and —  From  the  first  I  have 
been  attracted  to  you.  Just  now  when  I  tried 
to  set  my  mind  aside,  as  you  call  it,  just  one 
idea,  one  impression,  came  to  me,  and  that  was 
of  nearness  to  you — I  don't  mean  physical  near 
ness — I  don't  know  what  I  mean  or  what  I'm 
talking  about — " 

"I  do,"  he  assured  her. 


198  ON    TIPTOE 

"I  am  shaken,  and  I  don't  know;  I  can't  tell 
what  it  means." 

"It  is  the  answer  to  my  love  for  you!"  he 
breathed. 

She  turned  her  clear  eyes  on  him  again. 

"I  do  not  know,"  she  repeated,  "and  I  must 
know.  I  might  allow  you  to  keep  my  hand  and 
to — and  to  go  on,  and  there  is  something  leap 
ing  within  me  that  tells  me  I  would  be  swept 
away  by  your  love.  But  I  must  not;  and  you 
must  not.  If  it  were  not  so  serious  to  me,  that 
might  happen.  I  am  talking  in  what  my  mother 
would  have  called  a  most  unmaidenly  manner," 
she  ended  with  a  wistful  little  smile. 

He  gently  restored  her  hand  to  her  lap. 

"I  understand,"  said  he.  "But  it  will  come. 
I  am  on  air!  It  can  no  more  help  coming  than 
the  poppy  can  help  unfolding  in  the  sun." 

"I  hope  not,"  she  breathed,  but  so  low  that  he 
did  not  catch  the  syllables. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

AT  this  moment,  just  when  some  obvious 
change  of  subject  seemed  most  desirable, 
Grimstead  appeared  wading  down  the  middle  of 
the  stream. 

"Keep  quiet!"  Burton  adjured  Larry.  "Let's 
surprise  him!" 

The  fisherman  was  having  a  fine  time,  splash 
ing  down  the  long,  straight  vista,  casting  his  fly 
right,  left  and  straight  ahead  as  he  advanced. 
Larry  watched  him  critically  for  a  few  moments. 

"He  knows  the  job,"  he  told  Burton.  "Did 
you  see  him  make  that  flip  cast  to  the  pool  be 
hind  the  cedar  root?" 

The  pool  behind  the  cedar  root  yielded  a  rise 
that  immediately  developed  into  an  indignant 
rainbow  struggling  to  involve  himself  in  under 
water  roots.  For  a  time  Grimstead  managed  to 
foil  this  intention,  but  a  sharp  and  unexpected 
dash  trailed  the  dropper  fly  across  a  part  of  the 
snag,  where  it  became  firmly  embedded.  After 
that  Mr.  Rainbow  proceeded  to  pull  himself 
loose  and  depart.  Grimstead,  rather  red  in  the 
face,  tried  to  disengage  the  drooper  hook  with 
out  getting  near  the  pool,  flipping  the  line,  pull- 

199 


200  ON    TIPTOE 

ing  it  down  stream,  poking  the  tip  past  it — all 
the  angler's  tricks  known — but  in  vain.  At  last 
he  had  to  wade  out  to  the  snag,  roll  up  his  sleeve, 
and  plunge  his  arm  in  nearly  to  the  shoulder 
before  once  more  his  leader  swung  clear.  The 
pool,  and  it  was  a  promising  one,  was  of  course 
completely  ruined. 

"You'd  be  surprised  at  Dad's  language," 
chuckled  Burton. 

"He  hasn't  said  a  word,"  expostulated  Larry. 
"He's  a  good  old  sport." 

"Just  the  same  there's  language.  I  know 
Dad,"  whispered  Burton.  "He  just  hasn't  used 
it  yet,  that's  all.  This  is  not  a  propitious  mo 
ment  to  spring  any  surprises.  In  a  minute  he'll 
pull  out  a  cigar  and  bite  it  in  two.  I  know  the 
symptoms.  There!  What  did  I  tell  you !  Now 
when  he's  got  that  about  half  smoked  he'll  be 
human  again.  Hush!  Keep  quiet!" 

Grimstead,  after  lighting  the  mangled  frag 
ment  of  the  cigar,  had  waded  ashore  opposite 
the  flat  rock  atop  which  the  two  were  perched. 
There  he  sat,  concealed  from  view.  Only  the 
curling  smoke  and  the  aroma  of  the  excellent  to 
bacco  betrayed  his  presence. 

Davenport  felt  his  arm  seized  tightly.  Bur 
ton,  her  eyes  dancing  with  fun,  was  pointing 
an  ecstatic  forefinger  up  stream.  In  the  vista 
Gardiner  had  appeared  and  was  making  his  way 


ON    TIPTOE  201 

as  fast  as  a  reluctance  to  get  in  over  his  top  boots 
would  let  him. 

"Just  in  time!"  breathed  Burton.  "Now  we'll 
;get  the  language!" 

Grimstead  also  caught  sight  of  the  approach- 
i  ing  figure,  and  his  roaring  voice  exploded  so  vio 
lently  from  beneath  the  rock  that  the  young 
!  people  above  him  clutched  each  other  delightedly. 

"Where  the  blue  hell  you  been!"  was  the  open 
ing.  Burton,  though  a  young  and  innocent 
j  maiden,  had  been  brought  up  with  the  Pirate 
Chief  and  had  acquired  moral  immunity  from 
the  said  Chief's  vocabulary;  but  you,  gentle 
reader,  have  not,  and  therefore  I  will  judiciously 
omit.  The  argument  was  that  the  Chief  had 
waited  too  long  for  his  Second  in  Command  to 
catch  up  with  him,  as  per  original  agreement, 
and  wanted  to  know  why.  Gardiner  did  not 
appear  to  be  disturbed.  He  hopped  from  rock 
to  rock  until  he  too  had  gained  the  space  be 
neath  the  great  boulder,  and  then,  and  then  only, 
made  reply. 

"I  got  into  one  of  those  starfish  canons  that 
young  fool  told  us  about,  and  it  took  me  some 
time  to  find  it  out  and  to  get  back,"  he  explained 
calmly. 

"Fine  woodsman  you  are!"  scorned  Grimstead. 
"Couldn't  you  see  my  plain  trail?" 

"I   don't  pretend  to   be   a  woodsman,"   dis- 


202  ON    TIPTOE 

claimed  Gardiner,  "and  I  did  pretty  well  to  get 
here  at  all.  I  see  you've  got  some  nice  ones," 
he  went  on,  having  evidently  with  great  tact 
looked  into  the  creel  before  introducing  the  topic 
of  fish. 

"Not  bad,"  growled  Grimstead;  "just  lost  a 
beauty  at  that  pool  up  there."  His  thunderstorm 
was  evidently  receding  down  over  the  horizon. 

Burton  now  considered  the  time  right  for  her 
surprise,  and  she  began  to  make  moss  balls  to 
toss  over  onto  them.  The  next  words,  however, 
arrested  her. 

"Now  I've  caught  up,  chief,"  Gardiner  was 
saying,  "for  heaven's  sake  tell  me  why  you  gave 
this  fellow  the  right  to  limit  sales  for  five  years. 
You  heard  him  talk.  You'll  be  making  them  for 
row  boats  only,  if  you  don't  watch  out." 

"Suits  me,"  returned  Grimstead  calmly. 

"I  don't  believe  I  get  your  idea." 

"Well,  you  asked  me  if  I  heard  him  talk.  Yes, 
I  heard  him  talk,  and  I've  heard  that  kind  of 
talk  all  my  life.  It  always  comes  from  a  half- 
baked,  impractical  chump  who  is  so  full  of  im 
possible  ideals  that  he  never  gets  anywhere,  and 
who  couldn't  see  the  main  point  if  you  wrapped 
it  in  his  breakfast  napkin.  You  got  to  handle 
that  kind,  and  handle  'em  right,  or  you'll  never 
get  an  inch." 

"That's  true  enough,"  commented  Gardiner. 


ON    TIPTOE  203 

It  is  probable  that  Davenport  would  have 
broken  in  at  this  point  in  some  spectacular  fash 
ion  had  not  Burton  held  his  arm  and  placed  her 
fingers  over  his  lips. 

"All  he  sees  is  that  these  batteries  of  his 
will  replace  the  world's  power  and  that  a  lot 
of  high  falutin'  things  will  happen  for  the  benefit 
of  the  human  race  and  all  that  visionary  rot  that's 
never  worked  out  yet  and  never  will." 

"What  do  we  care  what  he  thinks  as  long  as 
we  can  sell  the  batteries?"  queried  Gardiner. 
"It's  going  to  take  quite  some  few  batteries  of 
any  size  you  name  to  replace  the  world's  power, 
and  that  is  the  eventual  market,  if  the  thing 
works." 

"We're  assuming  that  it  works,"  growled  the 
older  man,  "otherwise  there's  nothing  doing." 

"Then  why  limit  the  sale  to  what  this  nut 
thinks  proper?" 

"You're  nearly  as  bad  as  he  is,  Ross,"  observed 
Grimstead,  a  note  of  good  humour  creeping  into 
his  voice.  "I'll  give  you  a  demonstration  that 
will  impress  it  on  you." 

"Shoot!"  urged  Gardiner. 

"You  asked  me  last  night  how  many  shares  in 
this  thing  you  get.  Well,  you  don't  get  any." 

A  blank  silence  of  some  seconds  ensued. 

"I  don't  believe  I  understand,"  then  said  Gar 
diner  in  rather  a  strangled  voice. 


204  ON    TIPTOE 

"Me  and  this  young  man  will  hold  all  the 
stock,"  emphasised  Grimstead. 

"Then  where  do  I  come  in!"  demanded  Gardi 
ner  with  a  note  of  rising  indignation. 

Grimstead  chuckled. 

"You  wouldn't  come  in  one  cent's  worth  if 
we  should  do  as  you  seemed  to  think  we  would, 
begin  to  manufacture  and  market  these  things 
promiscuously." 

Gardiner  apparently  had  regained  his  equa 
nimity. 

"Well,  chief,  I  don't  get  you  yet;  but  I've 
been  on  the  job  long  enough  to  know  you  have 
some  notion  of  taking  care  of  me." 

"I  told  you  that;  and  that  I  am  going  to  use 
you." 

"I  think  we  ought  to  let  them  know  we  are 
here,"  whispered  Davenport  uneasily. 

But  the  girl's  eyes  were  blazing. 

"I  don't  like  this,"  she  whispered  back.  "It's 
your  business  they're  discussing — and  mine!" 

Davenport's  heart  leaped  at  the  last  words,  but 
she  was  leaning  forward  again,  eavesdropping 
with  all  her  might. 

"If  I  can  get  one  good  working  model  I  don't 
care  whether  another  of  the  things  is  made  for 
ten  years,  let  alone  five,"  stated  Grimstead. 
"My  Lord,  man!  Think  of  the  shake  down! 
This  is  going  to  put  every  hydroelectric  com- 


ON    TIPTOE  205 

pany,  every  public  utility  outfit  out  of  business! 
Not  to  speak  of  all  the  oil  and  coal  and  such 
things.  The  securities  of  those  companies  won't 
be  worth  a  red  cent.  The  market,  man!  Think 
of  the  market!  There  are  a  hundred  dollars  to 
Tbe  had  there  for  every  dollar  out  of  the  mere 
sale  of  those  things !  Why,  you  and  I  will  have 
the  world  by  the  tail!" 

"You're  right,"  Gardiner  replied  slowly,  "with 
capital — " 

"Which  I  supply.  I'll  smash  Corbusier  first 
of  all,  blast  his  hide;  and  I'll  twist  the  necks  of 
that  Northwest  Electric  bunch;  and  I'll  have 
them  in  packs  begging  at  my  office  door.  They'll 
see  the  point,  don't  worry;  and  those  of  them 
who  don't  will  go  to  the  poorhouse.  They'll  be 
crying  to  get  aboard ;  and  you  and  I  will  sit  there 
and  decide  the  terms.  We  can  buy  their  stocks 
and  bonds  for  a  song." 

"And  resell  at  the  market,"  caught  up  Gardi 
ner,  "but  that  means  secrecy  as  to  this  battery." 

"That's  one  place  where  you  come  in.  You 
ought  to  be  able  to  handle  the  publicity." 

"I  can  if  there  aren't  too  many  of  the  con 
founded  things  attracting  attention — " 

"I'll  see  to  that.  There  won't  be  any  of  them. 
The  contract  says  manufacture  must  start  in  six 
months;  it  doesn't  say  anything  about  market 
ing." 


206  ON    TIPTOE 

"There  are  bound  to  be  leaks." 

"A  thousand  of  them.  But  who  would  pay 
any  attention  to  the  mere  rumours  of  another 
perpetual  motion  machine?  That  part's  your 
job." 

A  short  pause  ensued  while  the  two  men  evi 
dently  envisaged  the  opportunity. 

"Why,  chief!"  cried  Gardiner  at  length,  his 
voice  vibrant  with  excitement.  "It's  tremen 
dous!  It's  half  the  money  in  the  world!  It's 
all  the  power!  You  will  rule  the  globe!" 

"Just  about  that.  Give  me  five  years  and 
I'll  be  the  richest  man  in  the  world;  that  much 
is  certain.  But  what  is  more  I'll  have  the  old 
crowd  down  and  out  or  taking  my  orders. 
There'll  be  the  biggest  smash  in  history,  and 
you  and  I,  Ross,  my  boy,  will  push  the  button 
and  take  our  pick  of  the  prices.  Then  when 
we've  got  the  whole  situation  in  our  hands  we 
can  decide  just  how  far  we'll  go  with  this  bat 
tery  proposition.  One  thing  certain:  we'll  be  in 
a  position  to  do  just  as  much  or  just  as  little  with 
it  as  we  choose."  Grimstead  chuckled.  "But 
I'm  certainly  going  to  make  a  good  start  by  bust 
ing  Corbusier  so  high  he  never  will  come  down!" 

"This  man  Davenport,  isn't  he  likely  to  upset 
the  apple  cart?"  enquired  Gardiner. 

"That's  part  of  my  job,"  answered  Grimstead. 
"I'll  guarantee  to  handle  that  young  man." 


ON    TIPTOE  207 

There  were  sounds  of  his  rising.  "So  you  better 
string  with  me,  Ross,  and  take  orders,  and  not 
ask  too  many  questions." 

"I  intend  to!"  cried  Gardiner  fervently. 

They  moved  off  down  stream,  and  were  almost 
immediately  lost  to  sight  around  the  lower  bend. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

BURTON  was  aflame  with  indignation,  and 
was  bursting  out  with  comments  suitable  to 
the  occasion;  but  Davenport  silenced  her  with  a 
gesture. 

"Please,"  he  begged,  "let  me  think." 

He  was  very  grave. 

"This  is  rather  terrible,"  he  said  at  length. 

"It  is  atrocious! "  she  cried.  "It  is  treacher 
ous!  That  they  should  treat  you  so!" 

"Me?  Oh,  I  don't  matter.  But  his  ideas  are 
all  destructive.  He  sees  a  chance  to  tear  down 
and  to  build  up  his  own  personal  power  from  the 
debris.  That  had  not  even  occurred  to  me!  I 
saw  only  the  releasing  of  pressure — " 

"To  think  that  my  father— 

"Yes,  there  is  that;  I  had  forgotten  that  for 
a  moment.  It  is  very  difficult.  I  am  afraid  I 
have  made  a  mistake.  I  see  that  now.  It  was 
foolish  of  me  to  have  jumped  into  an  alliance 
without  giving  more  thought  to  it,  without  con 
sidering—  But  it  seemed  to  fall  so  pat,  our 
all  being  here  together,  and  Mr.  Grimstead  one 
of  the  biggest  men  in  just  that  line—  It  was 
an  impulse,  and  I  followed  it." 


208 


ON    TIPTOE  209 

"Why  shouldn't  you!"  she  cried.  "Who 
wouldn't?  Who  would  have  believed  that  any 
one  would  do  such  a  thing?" 

"Well,  it's  done.  The  question  is,  what  to 
do  next?" 

"Fight,  of  course!"  she  answered  promptly. 
"I  should  think  you'd  be  just  boiling!" 

"I'm  sad,  and  a  little  frightened,"  he  confessed. 
"It  is  like  holding  a  typhoon  in  my  hand." 

"You  aren't  going  to  lie  down  and  let  them 
do  this!" 

"No;  that  must  not  be." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  then?" 

"I  don't  know." 

He  arose  without  further  words,  offered  her 
his  hand,  and  the  two  descended  the  talus  and 
took  their  way  in  silence  back  to  the  camp. 
Grimstead  roared  at  them  jovially  as  soon  as 
they  came  in  sight. 

"Come  and  look  at  'em!"  he  shouted. 

Davenport  did  not  answer.  He  covered  the 
distance  between  them  and  stood  gravely  unsmil 
ing  before  the  older  man. 

"Mr.  Grimstead,"  said  he,  "I  have  come  to 
tell  you  that  I  overheard  your  conversation  with 
Mr.  Gardiner  at  the  bend  of  the  stream." 

Grimstead's  face  flushed  darkly,  and  the  good 
humour  vanished  from  it. 

"Well?"  he  challenged. 


210  ON    TIPTOE 

"I  cannot  be  party  to  the  programme  I  heard 
outlined." 

Grimstead  considered  a  moment. 

"Sit  down,"  he  invited.  "Have  a  cigar. 
There's  plenty  of  time  to  talk  this  thing  out, 
so  there's  no  excuse  to  go  off  half  cock." 

Davenport  declined  the  cigar,  but  sat  on  the 
log. 

"Now  what's  the  trouble?"  demanded  Grim- 
stead. 

"The  trouble  is  your  programme  is  destruc 
tive,"  stated  Davenport  succinctly,  "and  aims 
merely  at  personal  power  without  a  thought  to 
the  welfare  of  other  people.  The  thing  is  likely 
to  prove  a  curse  rather  than  a  benefit.  I  think 
you  are  intelligent  enough  to  understand  my 
point  without  going  into  it  further." 

"I  understand  your  point  all  right.  And  I 
understand  your  sort  too  well  to  argue  with  you. 
Argument's  the  long  suit  of  your  kind.  So  I'm 
just  telling  you.  It's  too  bad  you  don't  like 
my  programme,  but  I  play  the  cards  I  hold  and 
that  is  final." 

"In  those  circumstances  I  shall  refuse  to  enter 
into  this  deal." 

"In  those  circumstances  it  doesn't  matter  a 
damn  whether  you  do  or  not.  You've  already 
entered  into  it." 

"I  shall  refuse  to  sign  the  contract." 


ON    TIPTOE  211 

"You've  already  agreed  to  sign  it,"  Grimstead 
pointed  out,  "and  if  you  don't  sign  it,  a  court 
decree  will  put  it  into  effect  anyhow." 

He  eyed  Davenport  shrewdly.  The  young 
man  seemed  more  troubled  than  angry. 

"You  are  thinking  that  you  may  be  able  in 
some  way  to  refuse  to  divulge  your  process," 
he  continued.  "Eh?  I  thought  so.  No  go. 
You'll  either  have  to  produce  it  or  be  buried 
for  life.  The  thing  exists ;  I  can  prove  it.  You 
have  contracted  to  deliver  it.  If  you  don't  do 
it  I  shall  enter  suit  first  and  collect  every  cent 
you  may  have  by  way  of  damages.  Then  I'll 
get  a  court  order  and  if  you  don't  pony  up  you'll 
go  to  jail  for  contempt.  And  I'll  keep  it  up. 
I  have  a  long  arm,  young  man!" 

Davenport's  face  flushed  as  this  direct  threat 
kindled  him  to  defiance.  Before  he  could  speak 
Grimstead  interposed. 

"You're  about  to  tell  me  to  go  to  hell,"  said 
he  with  a  short  laugh.  "You're  mad  enough  at 
this  moment  to  chuck  the  whole  thing.  That's 
because  you're  young.  But  you'll  get  over  it 
when  you  think  about  it.  It  wouldn't  do  you 
any  good.  Your  battery  would  be  buried  along 
with  you.  Nobody  but  me  would  be  allowed 
to  touch  it.  It,  as  well  as  you,  would  be  lost 
to  the  world." 

Grimstead  paused  a  moment  to  allow  this  to 


212  ON    TIPTOE 

sink  in.  Then  he  went  on  in  a  more  reassuring 
tone. 

"You're  not  a  business  man,  Mr.  Davenport, 
and  you  don't  realise  that  the  business  world  is 
a  fight  from  start  to  finish.  It  will  be  to  the 
interests  of  every  one  affected  to  suppress  this 
battery;  in  fact  it  will  be  a  matter  of  life  and 
death  to  them.  And  believe  me,  they'll  fight 
to  do  so!  I  don't  believe  you  quite  appreciate 
what  it  means  to  have  nearly  the  whole  business 
world  solidly  against  you,  nor  what  a  tremen 
dous  power  they  wield  to  crush  you.  It  is  a 
case  of  fight  back  harder  than  they  fight,  and 
to  get  the  jump  on  them  first." 

He  went  on  developing  his  point,  showing 
that  only  by  this  early  and  unexpected  raid  into 
the  enemy's  camp  could  the  ultimate  success  of 
the  project  be  assured.  Then  he  went  on  to 
point  the  moral  by  drawing  a  contrasting  picture 
— Davenport  in  jail,  discredited,  broke,  and 
above  all  inefficient;  Davenport  possessed  of 
practically  untold  wealth,  with  the  opportunities, 
if  he  so  wished,  of  repairing  damage  inevitable 
to  the  readjustment.  It  was  a  pretty  good  plea, 
for  a  specious  one.  Grimstead  himself  was  ad 
miringly  impressed  by  it,  and  reconvinced  of  the 
entire  justice  and  expediency  of  his  course;  Gar 
diner  too  even  arrived  at  a  gentle  glow  of  in 
dignation  that  any  one  should  even  for  a  mo- 


ON    TIPTOE  213 

ment  stand  in  the  way  of  so  obvious  a  procedure. 
Davenport,  however,  did  not  seem  impressed. 
He  stared  at  Grimstead  with  level  gaze  until  the 
Pirate  Chief  had  finished;  then  he  arose  from 
his  log,  remarked  curtly  that  the  situation  was 
perfectly  clear,  and  strode  away  in  the  direction 
of  the  creek  crossing.  Burton,  after  a  moment, 
followed  him. 

Grimstead  laughed  and  relighted  his  cigar. 

"That  was  a  good  talk,  chief,"  observed  Gar 
diner,  "and  the  whole  thing  is  perfectly  obvious. 
Even  a  blind  man  could  see  that." 

"Well,  don't  fool  yourself,"  replied  the  older 
man,  "it  was  breath  wasted  as  far  as  he  is  con 
cerned.  He's  gone  off  mad,  and  don't  you  fool 
yourself  on  that." 

"What  can  he  do  about  it?" 

"Nothing.  But  he'll  try.  I  know  that  age 
and  kind.  And  I  don't  doubt  he'll  find  lawyers 
enough  to  help  him.  But  I  know  my  business 
and  I  have  my  wires  to  pull.  Don't  you  fret!" 

Burton  overtook  Davenport  at  the  stream's 
edge.  She  saw  at'  once  that  he  was  furiously 
angry,  so  angry  that  he  could  not  permit  him 
self  to  utter  a  word.  She  took  his  hand.  He 
made  a  half  effort  as  though  to  snatch  it  away, 
but  she  resisted  it  firmly.  For  several  minutes 
they  stood  thus.  Gradually  the  steady  rush  of 
the  waters  loosened  the  tension.  The  rigidity 


214  ON    TIPTOE 

of  his  attitude  relaxed  slightly,  and  he  sighed 
deeply.  Then  Burton  at  last  spoke. 

"Larry,"  she  said,  drawing  closer  to  him,  "I 
just  want  you  to  know  that  what  you  said  was 
true.  We  belong  to  each  other.  I  know  it  now. 
I  don't  care  what  happens,  that  much  they  can 
never  take  from  us." 

He  seized  her  hungrily,  and  they  clung  to 
gether  for  several  moments  while  the  calming, 
soothing  influences  swept  through  them.  At 
length  he  released  her  with  an  explosive  sigh. 
They  had  not  kissed. 

"Well,  that  is  over!"  he  said.  "Burton,  oh, 
blessed  one,  I  am  so  thankful  you  were  here! 
If  it  had  not  been  for  you  I  should  simply  have 
killed  them  both  as  they  sat  there.  But  I  just 
kept  thinking  that  he  was  your  father — " 

"I  know,"  she  soothed  him.  "I  know  it  was 
hard." 

"I've  never  taken  such  talk  from  a  man  in 
my  life!  I've  never  been  dictated  to  in  any  such 
manner!  I've  never  had  my  rights  so  coolly 
trampled  on!  I've  never  listened  to  such  cold 
blooded  cynicism!" 

"I  know;  I  know,"  she  repeated.  "I  feel  with 
you  in  every  bit  of  it,  whether  he  is  my  father 
or  not.  But  let's  not  talk  about  it  or  we  shall 
just  be  crazy  angry  again,  and  that  will  do  us 
no  good." 


ON    TIPTOE  215 

He  took  her  by  the  shoulders. 

"Where  do  you  get  your  wisdom,  Burton?"  he 
asked  her. 

"Me,  a  useless,  frivolous  little  social  butterfly," 
she  mocked.  "Is  that  it?" 

He  smiled,  and  at  the  smile  she  clapped  her 
hands. 

"That's  better!"  she  cried.  "Now  we  can  talk 
about  it.  What  are  we  to  do?" 

"There's  one  thing  I'm  not  going  to  do," 
he  stated  with  conviction,  "no  matter  what  the 
price  to  pay;  I'm  not  going  to  permit  this  scheme 
of  destruction!" 

"How  can  it  be  stopped?"  she  asked.  "Let's 
be  practical." 

"For  one  thing,  I  can  refuse  to  give  them  my 
formulae." 

"And  lose  all  you  own  and  go  to  jail  besides,  as 
father  told  you,"  she  pointed  out. 

"Well,  I'll  do  that,  if  necessary." 

"Of  course  you  would,  and  I'd  go  with  you — 
if  necessary.  But  isn't  there  some  other  way?" 

"Kill  'em  off  and  drop  'em  down  a  barranca, 
I  guess,"  replied  Larry  gloomily.  "Then  make 
a  new  start.  Dead  men  tell  no  tales."  His  eye 
fired  again.  "And,  by  God,"  he  swore,  "if  it 
weren't  for  the  fact  that  you  happen  to  be  mixed 
in  the  situation  that's  exactly  what  I'd  do,  in  a 
holy  minute!  I'd  just  as  soon  shoot  that  pair 


216  ON    TIPTOE 

as  I  would  a  pair  of  mad  dogs!  They're  more 
of  a  menace  to  the  world  as  things  stand  now." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  I'm  here,"  she  answered  prac 
tically,  "but  I'm  far  from  discouraging  a  certain 
amount  of  violence,  if  it  proves  necessary.  Lis 
ten,  Larry,  dear.  You're  so  boiling  you're  not 
using  your  head.  Wouldn't  destroying  that 
agreement  you  signed  be  just  as  good  as  mur 
dering  somebody?" 

He  turned  to  her  with  the  first  appearance  of 
his  boyish  grin. 

"Burton,  you  blessed  damosel,"  he  cried, 
"you've  got  more  sense  in  your  little  finger  than 
I  have  in  my  whole  body!  Of  course  that's  the 
answer!  I'll  just  go  and  take  it  away  from 
them."  He  laughed  aloud.  "Regular  old  melo 
drama  stuff.  Why,  here's  even  The  Papers!" 

He  turned  as  if  to  put  this  new  idea  into  im 
mediate  execution ;  but  again  she  stopped  him. 

"Larry,  you  poor  infant!"  she  cried.  "Do  you 
always  act  this  way?  It's  time  you  had  some 
body  to  look  after  you!  What  do  you  think 
you're  going  to  do?" 

"Get  the  agreement." 

"How?" 

"Well,"  said  Davenport,  his  jaws  shutting 
grimly,  "I  think  they'll  hand  it  over  all  right!" 

She  made  a  little  gesture  of  comic  despair. 

"My  'ero!"  she  burlesqued,  clasping  her  hands. 


ON    TIPTOE  217 

"Well,  what's  the  matter?"  enquired  Larry  a 
trifle  sulkily.  "You  can't  pull  this  melodrama 
stuff  without  doing  something!  And  don't  you 
worry  about  their  handing  over  when  I  tell  them 

to!" 

"I  don't,"  she  replied.    "I  have  no  doubt  you'll 
scare  them  into  fits— though  Dad  doesn't  scare 
very  easily.    Anyway,  I  have  every  confidence 
you'll  get  the  agreement.    Then  what?" 
"Why,  then  we  have  it!" 
"Yes;  and  they  can  swear  that  it  existed,  and 
that  it  was  taken  from  them  by  force." 
"Well,  what  would  you  do  then?" 
"I'd  steal  it." 
"Steal  it!" 

"Yes.  Snatch  it  unbeknownst-like,  you 
know!"  she  explained,  her  eyes  sparkling  with 
excitement.  "Then  what  proof  have  they,  ex 
cept  each  other's  words!  You  could  deny  that. 
Would  you  lie  nicely  in  a  good  cause,  do  you 
think?"  she  mocked  him. 

"I  don't  know;  it  wouldn't  be  necessary.  I 
think  the  burden  of  proof  would  be  on  them. 
You're  right,  though.  Your  head  is  worth  two 
of  mine.  How  will  we  do  it?" 

"Dissemble,"  she  cried,  vibrant  with  the  eager 
ness  of  the  adventure.  "Fool  them  to  the  limit! 
Maybe  I  wouldn't  want  you  to  lie,  but  I'd  just 
as  soon  you'd  dissemble.  We  want  them  to  think 


218  ON    TIPTOE 

that  your  opposition  has  blown  over;  that  you're 
all  ready  to  go  ahead  with  the  scheme.  Then 
father  won't  hang  onto  his  bill  fold  too  closely 
and—" 

"How  do  you  know  it's  in  the  bill  fold?" 

"I  saw  him  put  it  there,"  she  explained  impa 
tiently. 

"And  he  carries  it  in  his  coat  pocket,"  Larry 
pointed  out,  "and  his  coat  on  his  back!  He's 
either  got  to  be  held  up,  or  else  one  of  us  has 
got  to  turn  pickpocket.  I'm  not  skilful  enough 
for  that." 

"We'll  get  hold  of  it,  unless  he  gets  suspi 
cious,"  she  brushed  this  aside  impatiently. 
"That's  why  I  say  we  must  dissemble." 

ffDissemblons!"  cried  Larry.  "But  how?  I 
do  not,  I  confess,  admire  the  methods  and  out 
look  of  your  parent,  but  I  will  hand  it  to  him 
on  common  sense.  Such  a  sudden  about  face 
on  my  part  may  not  appeal  to  it." 

"I've  thought  of  that,"  she  said.  A  slow  colour 
was  mounting  to  her  cheeks.  "First  of  all  it 
must  become  known  who  you  are." 

"Who  I  am?"  echoed  Larry,  bewildered  by 
this  apparent  change  of  subject. 

"He  thinks  you  are  a  garage  man,  remem 
ber." 

"I  forgot  that,"  laughed  Davenport.  "All 
right;  I  drop  the  disguise  and  appear  in  me 


ON    TIPTOE  219 

full  royal  regalia  as  the  Celebrated  Author.  Do 
you  imagine  that  will  impress  him?" 

"Then" — she  hesitated — "then  we  give  him  the 
plausible  reason  for  your  changing  your  mind." 

"Which  is?" 

"The  announcement  of  our  engagement,"  she 
said  in  a  voice  so  low  that  he  barely  heard  it. 

At  this  most  unpropitious  moment  there  came 
around  the  bend  (a)  Rapscallion  raffish  and 
prancing,  (b)  Punketty-Snivvles,  footsore,  full 
of  burrs,  but  faithful,  (c)  Simmins,  lugging  two 
drying  and  infinitesimal  trout  at  the  end  of  a 
forked  willow  switch. 

"Damn!"  muttered  Davenport  fervently. 

Simmins  and  his  circus  approached,  fatuously 
pleased  with  itself,  and  quite  oblivious  to  Daven 
port's  glowering. 

"A  rare  afternoon  of  sport,  I  calls  it,  sir," 
he  chirped.  "Not  what  one  would  call  a  large 
catch,  but  distinctly  sporting  in  the  taking." 

As  may  be  seen,  Simmins'  original  drama  had 
undergone  some  modification  before  production; 
but  that,  I  understand,  is  usual.  The  plot  was 
now  less  crudely  obvious.  It  had  to  do  with 
quality  versus  quantity;  with  skill  versus  bull 
luck;  with  aesthetic  satisfaction  versus  brutal 
slaughter.  But  Davenport  cut  in. 

"Look  here,  Simmins,"  said  he.  "Do  you  want 
to  do  me  a  favour?" 


220  ON    TIPTOE 

Simmins'  sensitive,  artistic  nature  sensed  im 
portance  here. 

"Yes,  sir,  indeed,  yes,  sir,"  he  answered,  mean 
ing,  "to  the  death,  oh,  comrade  of  my  soul!" 

Burton  touched  Larry's  sleeve. 

"  Do  you  think  it  wise?"  she  murmured. 

"Absolutely!"  he  replied  with  conviction. 

"I  am  going  to  entrust  you  with  a  secret,  Sim 
mins,"  went  on  Davenport  with  all  the  impres- 
siveness  he  could  muster,  "in  fact,  two  secrets." 

"Yes,  sir!"  cried  Simmins  a  little  breathlessly. 

"Simmins,"  confided  Davenport,  dropping  his 
voice  and,  looking  right  and  left,  "I  am  not 
what  I  seem." 

Simmins  drew  nearer. 

"No,  sir!"  said  he. 

"No.  You  have  taken  me  for  a  humble  garage 
mechanic,  one  who  toils  amid  wheels  and  wires 
and  grease ;  one  who  sits  in  grimy  overalls  on  the 
light  upholstery  of  limousines ;  a  common  rough 
neck.  You  have  been  mistaken." 

Larry  glanced  sideways  and  caught  the  round- 
eyed,  eager  expression  of  Simmins'  face.  He 
turned  aside  as  though  to  hide  his  emotion. 

"You  tell  him,"  he  asked  Burton  in  a  chok 
ing  voice.  "It  is  more  seemly  that  he  hear  the 
truth  from  other  lips  than  mine." 

Burton  cast  a  look  of  contempt  for  Larry's 
weakness. 


ON    TIPTOE  221 

"This  is  Mr.  Lawrence  Davenport,  the  au 
thor,  Simmins,"  she  stated  drily. 

Simmins'  face  lighted  in  triumph. 

"I  knew  as  how  you  were  a  sportsman,  sir; 
you  remember  my  telling  you.  My  instincts,  sir, 
are  very  keen,  sir,  though  often  my  brain  is  a 
bit  puzzled." 

"That,  Simmins,"  said  Davenport  gravely, 
having  mastered  his  emotion  enough  to  turn  a 
straight  face,  "is  exactly  what  I  was  telling  Miss 
Burton  no  later  than  yesterday." 

"Yes,  sir.  I  knew  from  the  first  somehow 
that  you  were  a  gentleman,  sir;  but  there  were 
many  little  things,  if  you  will  pardon  my  saying 
so,  sir,  that  puzzled  me.  But  a  literary  gentle 
man!  That  explains  them." 

"I  am  very  dense,  Simmins,"  said  Davenport 
courteously.  "Would  you  mind  a  further  eluci 
dation?" 

This  request  seemed  to  embarrass  Simmins. 
He  floundered;  but  the  delighted  Larry  was  able 
at  last  to  elicit  something  to  the  effect  that  lit 
erary  people  were  always  notably  eccentric. 

"Exactly.  I  shall  bring  up  that  point  later," 
Davenport  became  serious.  "The  other  secret, 
Simmins,  is  one  that  is  purely  personal,  and  I 
should  certainly  not  confide  it  to  you  did  I  not 
feel  that  you  are  a  friend  of  my  own  and  a  de 
voted  servant  to  Miss  Burton,  and  that  you  will 


222  ON    TIPTOE 

without  hesitation  assist  us  in  what  is  a  real 
crisis.  The  secret  is  that  Miss  Burton  has  prom 
ised  to  marry  me." 

"Oh,  sir,  thank  you,  sir!"  cried  Simmins,  over 
whelmed.  "I  esteem  this  an  honour,  sir;  and  I 
congratulate  you." 

"Unfortunately,"  went  on  Davenport,  "as 
often  happens  in  the  business  world,  certain  in 
terests  of  Mr.  Grimstead's  clash  with  my  inter 
ests.  Unfortunately,  again,  it  is  a  question  of 
my  complete  ruin;  but  only  a  matfer  of  minor 
importance  to  Mr.  Grimstead.  The  whole  affair 
depends  on  a  certain  paper  which  Mr.  Grimstead 
carries  in  his  bill  book.  The  paper  belongs  to 
me,  and  it  is  vitally  necessary  I  get  it  back.  Will 
you  help?" 

"It  will  affect  all  our  future  happiness,"  put 
in  Burton. 

"It  is  only  fair  to  say  that  if  you  are  caught, 
I  should  of  course  do  my  best,  but  it  is  probable 
I  could  help  very  little.  If  you  succeed  my  wife 
and  I" — Davenport  glanced  triumphantly  to 
ward  Burton — "will  take  care  of  you." 

"It's  a  sporting  chance,  sir,"  said  Simmins 
stoutly.  "You  have  treated  me  like  a  gentleman 
and  humble  though  the  heart  of  Charles  Sim 
mins  may  be,  it  can  never  be  said  that  it  beats 
in  an  ungrateful  bosom !" 

The  internal  Simmins  at  once  began  a  wild 


ON    TIPTOE  223 

can-can  of  triumph.  The  above  speech  was  de 
livered,  as  written,  in  the  open  air.  At  last  one 
of  Simmins'  private  dramas  had  been  produced! 

"The  sentiment  does  you  credit,"  Davenport 
was  replying.  "I  turned  to  you  because  I  be 
lieved  I  could  rely  on  you.  The  affair  is  simple. 
We  want  you  to  steal  that  paper.  In  your  serv 
ice  you  can  quite  naturally  make  an  occasion  in 
handling  the  garments.  But  be  cautious.  It 
will  have  to  be  done  very  naturally  indeed.  The 
slightest  suspicion  and  all  is  lost!" 

Simmins  swelled  visibly.  Davenport  was 
playing  up  in  wonderful  style.  To  be  sure  Sim 
mins  could  have  rewritten  the  above  speech  to 
more  telling  effect,  but  the  sentiment  was  per 
fect  and  the  rendition  not  bad.  That  last  sen 
tence  was  good!  "The  slightest  suspicion  and 
all  is  lost!"  The  internal  Simmins  gave  that 
quite  a  hand. 

"Have  no  fear,"  he  assured  them  grandly, 
"ere  moonrise  The  Papers  shall  be  in  our  power!" 

This  time  Burton  choked  and  turned  away, 
and  Larry  cast  upon  her  the  reproachful  eye. 

"Now,  Simmins,  listen,"  he  impressed  the 
point.  "There  are  two  papers,  and  they  both 
begin  about  as  follows."  He  recited  the  open 
ing  sentences  of  an  agreement.  "You  will  know 
them,  if  there  should  be  others,  because  my  name 
appears.  One  of  these  papers  is  on  a  single 


224.  ON    TIPTOE 

sheet  of  paper;  the  other  is  on  several.  I  want 
the  one  on  the  single  sheet.  The  other  doesn't 
matter.  But  if  you  should  be  in  any  doubt  what 
ever,  bring  them  both.  All  set?" 

He  watched  Simmins  depart  like  an  army  with 
banners. 

'Tunny  little  beggar/'  said  he.  "Full  of  ro 
mance  and  drama  suppressed  under  his  correct 
butler  manner.  Kind  of  pathetic,  I  think." 

"He  is  so  unreliable,"  doubted  Burton. 

"In  little  matters.  In  this  case,  for  personal 
reasons,  he  will  be  faithful  to  the  limit.  I  know 
the  type." 

And  then  Simmins  was  dismissed  from  the 
scene,  and  matters  were  taken  up  at  the  point 
of  interruption.  They  would  not  interest  us. 
At  least  they  interested  Rapscallion  so  little  that 
after  a  time  he  deserted  them  for  camp;  and 
Rapscallion  is  a  very  intelligent  dog. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  campaign  of  dissembling  went  off  with  a 
bang.  Grimstead's  hostility  melted  easily. 
The  impact  of  Davenport's  identity  was  tremen 
dous.  Like  many  practical  men  who  have  done 
really  big  things,  Grimstead  had  an  almost  super 
stitious  respect  for  the  man  who  writes.  He  had 
read  and  liked  some  of  Davenport's  books.  So 
far,  so  good.  Then  they  got  him  with  the  second 
barrel.  The  engagement  finished  him.  In  his 
knockabout  life  most  of  the  conventional  had 
been  rubbed  off,  so  he  reacted  more  quickly  than 
would  have  his  wife,  had  she  been  alive.  It  was 
sudden,  but  Grimstead  was  himself  accustomed 
to  doing  things  suddenly.  It  was  unexpected, 
but  in  Grimstead's  life  the  unexpected  so  often 
happened  that  it  had  ended  by  losing  effect.  It 
upset  certain  plans  as  to  Gardiner;  but  those 
plans  seemed  to  have  a  good  many  missing  cyl 
inders,  anyhow.  Davenport  was  an  excellent 
match,  he  was  a  manly  chap,  and — if  Grimstead 
could  arrange  it — he  was  going  to  be  immensely 
wealthy,  and  he  was  not  Willie  Smeed.  Of 
course  he  had  a  lot  of  damn-fool  notions,  but 
Grimstead  had  a  good  deal  of  Simmins'  idea 

225 


226  ON    TIPTOE 

there;  an  author  was  supposed  to  be  eccentric. 
What  as  to  hats  or  ideas  in  an  ordinary  citizen 
would  be  plain  impossibilities,  in  an  author  were 
pleasing  idiosyncrasies.  The  causes  of  dissension 
were  not  alluded  to.  In  fact  things  went  so 
well  that  Burton  and  Larry  could  not  forbear 
exchanging  a  glance  of  congratulation. 

Gardiner,  as  usual,  stayed  unobtrusively  in  the 
background.  The  loss  of  his  chance  with  Bur 
ton,  it  must  be  confessed,  affected  him  very  little. 
He  would  have  married  that  young  lady,  had 
the  cards  happened  to  fall  that  way,  and  would 
have  been  proud  of  her  as  an  adequate  head  to 
his  household,  and  fond  of  her  as  an  attractive 
woman;  but  his  real  satisfaction  with  the  ar 
rangement  would  have  sprung  from  his  added 
business  opportunities.  Now  that  the  latter 
seemed  to  be  in  his  hands  anyway,  he  was  rather 
relieved  than  otherwise  that  they  had  come  with 
out  feminine  complications.  Indeed,  he  went 
even  further,  and  reflected  with  satisfaction  on 
what  he  had  seen  of  Burton.  This  puppy,  Dav 
enport,  didn't  know  yet  what  he  was  up  against. 
Little  wildcat! 

Supper  passed  jovially  enough.  The  camp 
fire  was  lighted.  Then  Grimstead  caused  the 
hearts  of  three  of  the  party  to  skip  a  beat. 

"Simmins,"  he  commanded,  "when  you  get 
through  those  dishes  I'll  give  you  my  coat  to 


ON    TIPTOE  227 

clean  up  a  little;  it's  got  an  ungodly  fish  smell 
about  it." 

As  he  spoke  he  took  off  the  garment  and  hung 
it  on  a  stub,  replacing  it  with  a  sweater.  He 
removed  nothing  from  the  pockets,  and  all  three 
of  the  conspirators  could  distinctly  make  out  a 
corner  of  the  bill  fold  showing  from  the  inside 
pocket. 

Simmins  went  on  with  the  dishes,  but  his 
hands  trembled  so  with  excitement  and  eagerness 
to  be  done  that  the  dishpan  clattered  like  a  milk 
wagon.  In  ten  minutes,  however,  the  job  was 
finished.  He  dried  his  hands,  picked  up  the  coat, 
and  with  it  started  toward  the  creek. 

"Hey,  Simmins!"  called  Grimstead  after  him. 
"Where  you  going?  I  don't  want  that  thing 
washed!" 

"No,  sir;  of  course  not,  sir.  Merely  a  trifle 
of  sponging,  fresh  running  water,  you  know,  sir," 
stammered  Simmins  at  a  loss. 

"Well,  go  ahead.  But  there's  some  things  in 
the  pockets;  look  out  you  don't  lose  them. 
There's  a  tobacco  pouch  and  a  note  book  in  the 
side  pocket,  and  my  pocketbook  in  the  inside 
pocket." 

"Never  fear,  sir;  I'll  take  the  best  of  care," 
chattered  Simmins,  beating  a  hasty  retreat. 

"You're  not  afraid  to  trust  him  with  a  pocket- 
book?"  Larry  ventured  to  suggest. 


228  ON    TIPTOE 

Grimstead  laughed. 

"I  wouldn't  trust  him  with  my  roll,"  he  agreed, 
"nor  any  other  servant.  Simmins  is  as  honest 
as  the  average  when  he  hasn't  been  gambling, 
and  can  get  his  share  of  cigars  and  booze.  But 
that  pocketbook  contains  nothing  but  papers; 
and  they  can  all  be  replaced.  There's  nothing 
there  to  interest  Simmins." 

Burton  and  Larry  exchanged  another  glance. 
It  was  almost  too  good  to  be  true.  The  stars 
in  their  courses  were  fighting  for  them. 

After  ten  minutes  Simmins  glided  unobtru 
sively  into  the  firelight  and  hung  the  coat  again 
on  the  stub. 

"Here,"  Grimstead  commanded  at  once, 
'  'bring  me  that  pocketbook  out  of  the  inside 
pocket." 

A  bolt  from  heaven  could  not  have  crumpled 
Simmins'  interior  economy  as  did  that  order. 
For  a  moment  his  limbs  refused  to  work;  but 
at  last,  after  some  fumbling,  he  succeeded  in  ex 
tracting  the  pocketbook  and  bringing  it  to  his 
master.  Contrary  to  expectation,  Grimstead 
did  not  open  it.  He  examined  Simmins  curi 
ously. 

"You're  trembling  like  a  leaf,"  he  said. 
"What's  the  matter  with  you?" 

Simmins  muttered  something  about  its  being 
chilly  by  the  stream. 


ON    TIPTOE  229 

"Well,  get  up  to  the  fire!"  commanded  Grim- 
stead  impatiently.  He  looked  at  the  pocketbook 
in  his  hands  as  though  perplexed. 

"I'll  lose  that  confounded  thing  yet,"  he  grum 
bled.  "It's  too  long  for  that  pocket,  and  some 
day  when  I  stoop  over  it's  going  to  fall  out 
plunk  into  the  stream.  Simmins,  bring  me  my 
small  leather  kit  bag." 

He  opened  the  kit  bag,  burrowed  down  to  the 
bottom,  and  tucked  the  bill  book  beneath  a  flap. 

"There!  She'll  stick  safe  enough  there  until 
we  go.  Take  it  back,  Simmins." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Simmins,  "and  if  there  is  noth 
ing  more,  sir,  I  ask  permission  to  return  to  my 
camp  to  turn  in." 

"Well,  take  a  drink  before  you  go,"  offered 
Grimstead.  "Here's  the  key.  Your  teeth  are 
chattering." 

Simmins  gratefully  swallowed  the  whiskey— 
which,  however,  Grimstead  prepared — returned 
the  key  and  disappeared. 

Larry  arose  to  his  feet. 

"Poor  old  Simmins,"  he  laughed.  "The  stren 
uous  life  seems  too  much  for  him.  I  think  I'll 
just  step  down  to  the  car  and  see  whether  he 
remembered  to  attend  to  the  lubrication.  Come 
along,  Burton?  Fine  moon  coming  up  shortly." 
She  arose  with  an  alacrity  that  made  Grim- 
stead  laugh.  Gardiner,  too,  stirred. 


230  ON    TIPTOE 

"Sit  still,  Ross,"  said  Grimstead;  "don't  you 
know  better  than  to  act  gooseberry?" 

Gardiner  looked  his  enquiry. 

"Hang  the  engine,"  Grimstead  told  him  in  low 
tones  aside.  "Stay  here." 

The  two  young  people  hastened  down  the 
meadow.  Simmins  was  waiting  for  them. 

"Here,  sir;  here  it  is,"  he  burst  out,  thrusting 
a  paper  into  Larry's  hands.  "I  never  was  in 
such  a  funk  in  my  life!  If  he  had  suspected  me 
of  rifling  his  pocketbook  he  would  have  killed 
me  on  the  spot,  I  do  believe.  And  what  is  to 
happen  when  he  discovers  his  loss,  sir,  I  cannot 
for  the  life  of  me  imagine." 

"Nothing.  Don't  worry,  Simmins.  If  he  finds 
it  out,  I  will  take  the  blame.  But  I  don't  think 
he  will  look  for  it  until  we  leave  here." 

"I  sincerely  hope  not,  sir." 

"And  you  have  acted  very  nobly  in  this  mat 
ter,  Simmins.  Neither  Miss  Burton  nor  myself 
will  ever  forget  it." 

"Indeed  we  shall  not,  Simmins,"  added  Bur 
ton;  "you  are  a  true  knight!" 

Simmins  retired,  his  heart  glowing.  As  the 
moments  had  passed  and  still  no  explosion  had 
come  from  the  main  camp,  he  had  lost  little  by 
little  his  deadly  fear.  He  crawled  between  the 
blankets  at  last  with  another  drama  full-fledged 
and  ready  to  take  wing.  It  was  cast  into  a  dis- 


ON    TIPTOE  231 

tant  future.  Simmins  appeared  in  white  wig 
and  old-man  make-up.  There  were  two  or  three 
or  four — number  indeterminate — golden-haired 
prattlers  gathered  about  his  knee.  He  was  an 
swering  their  clamouring  demand  to  retell  for 
the  hundredth  time  how  forty  years  agone,  come 
Michaelmas,  he  had  saved  the  happiness  of  their 
grandparents — exact  details  would  await  inspi 
ration  and  development. 

The  two  young  people  made  their  way  to  the 
bank  of  the  little  stream,  where  they  would  be 
screened  from  the  camp.  There  Larry  lighted 
a  match  and  cast  a  hasty  glance  of  inspection 
at  the  document. 

"It's  all  right,"  he  assured  Burton  relievedly. 
"This  is  it!  Blessed  be  Simmins!" 

He  tore  it  into  small  pieces  and  cast  them 
into  the  current. 

"I  feel  as  though  the  weight  of  worlds  had 
been  lifted!"  he  cried. 

"It  does  seem  as  though  some  one  or  some 
thing  was  helping  us,"  said  Burton  soberly.  "I 
think  that  we  should  be  very  thankful  that  things 
came  about  so  easily." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

r  11  HE  moment  the  young  people  were  out  of 
JL  hearing  Grimstead  turned  on  Gardiner  with 
an  almost  savage  intensity  of  manner. 

"Listen  here,  Ross,"  he  said  rapidly.  "The 
time  has  come  for  action,  and  we  must  get  busy. 
Things  are  at  touch  and  go  with  us  and  the 
stakes  are  the  biggest  ever  played." 

Gardiner  looked  at  him  blankly. 

"Never  mind  figuring  it  out.  Listen  to  me, 
and  take  your  orders.  This  man  Davenport  is 
a  fool,  but  he  has  brains.  It  was  perfectly  evi 
dent  that  if  it  did  not  occur  to  him  immediately, 
the  thought  would  soon  suggest  itself  that  if 
he  could  once  get  hold  of  the  agreement  he  had 
signed,  he  could  tell  us  to  go  whistle." 

"But  since  he  and  Miss  Burton — " 

"Poppycock!  Do  you  think  it  reasonable  he'd 
change  his  attitude  inside  of  an  hour?  Do  you 
think  that  type  of  fanaticism  ever  becomes  rea 
sonable?  Even  if  Burton  were  to  use  all  her 
influence  she  could  not  have  changed  him  that 
soon.  It  was  too  easy;  much  too  easy." 

"Then  why—" 

"A  blind.     It  wouldn't  fool  a  mudhen,  let 

232 


ON    TIPTOE  233 

alone  a  wise  old  coot  like  me.  Between  the  time 
he  went  away  too  mad  to  spit  and  the  time  he 
came  back  here,  something  happened.  What?" 

"He  and  Miss  Burton — "  repeated  Gardiner. 

"Little  or  nothing  to  do  with  the  main  issue. 
What  happened  was  that  the  idea  of  the  agree 
ment  had  come  to  him.  He  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  get  it." 

Grimstead  puffed  on  his  characteristic  cigar. 

"I'm  an  old  bird;  I  can  put  two  and  two  to 
gether.  The  first  thing  to  try  was  obviously  to 
get  hold  of  it  peaceably,  by  stealing  it.  If  that 
didn't  work,  he  was  going  to  get  it  somehow,  if 
he  had  to  hold  us  up  or  sandbag  us." 

Gardiner  whistled  incredulously. 

"No;  I  haven't  been  going  to  the  movies  too 
much,"  disclaimed  Grimstead.  "I  know  the  type. 
He's  a  fanatic,  and  the  most  dangerous  kind. 
I'm  no  alarmist,  and  I'm  no  coward;  but  I  know 
enough  to  face  facts  and  discount  them.  I 
watched  that  young  man  very  closely  when  I 
was  telling  him  where  to  get  off  a  while  back. 
His  mind  is  set;  just  as  mine  is  set.  He'd  com 
mit  murder  before  he'd  give  in." 

Gardiner  shook  his  head. 

"That's  pretty  steep!"  he  commented. 

"It's  steep ;  but  it's  true.  And  he's  the  more 
dangerous  because  he's  acting  from  conviction, 
and  not  because  he  is  fighting  mad.  I  don't  want 


234  ON    TIPTOE 

to  be  too  serious,  but  there's  no  use  dodging  the 
fact  that  here  we  are  with  something  in  our  pos 
session  that  some  one  else  wants  badly  enough 
to  commit  a  crime  to  get.  I'm  not  saying  this 
as  an  alarmist;  I  want  merely  to  have  it  under 
stood  that  the  situation  is  serious." 

Gardiner  was  excited. 

"Get  him  before  he  gets  us!"  he  suggested. 

"I  began  to  take  my  measures  at  once,"  Grim- 
stead  went  on.  "Obviously  if  the  first  thing  he 
would  try  would  be  theft,  then  we  must  not  make 
theft  seem  impossible.  Every  one  in  this  party 
saw  me  put  the  contract  and  the  agreement  in  my 
bill  fold,  and  knew  that  I  carried  my  papers 
there.  He'd  try  first  of  all  to  steal  the  biU  fold. 
So  I  made  it  easy  for  him." 

Grimstead  raised  his  hand  to  prevent  inter 
ruption. 

"That's  why  I  took  off  my  coat,  and  why  I 
told  Simmins  to  clean  it." 

"Did  you  think  that  Simmins—?" 

"Not  at  that  time.  But  I  figured  that  if  I 
was  correct  in  my  reasoning — and  there  was  al 
ways  a  faint  chance  this  change  of  heart  might 
be  real,  remember — Davenport  would  begin  to 
manoeuvre  to  get  hold  of  the  coat  or  near  it." 

"A  test,"  murmured  Gardiner. 

"Precisely.  Well,  when  he  did  not,  I  began 
to  think  I  might  be  wrong.  Then  Simmins  came 


ON    TIPTOE  235 

back  scared  as  a  rabbit,  and  I  realised  he  was  in 
it.  I'll  settle  with  him  later!" 

"But  the  agreement — " 

"Was  not  there,  of  course.  I  substituted  the 
carbon  copy." 

"They'll  detect  the  difference;  it  isn't  signed." 

"I  signed  it  for  him,"  grinned  the  elder  man. 
"It  isn't  a  very  good  forgery,  but  all  he'll  do 
to-night  will  be  to  examine  it  with  a  match  to 
see  if  it's  what  he  wants.  I  have  the  flashlight 
here.  To-morrow  morning  he'll  get  onto  it,  of 
course." 

"Clever  work,  chief,"  cried  Gardiner;  then 
after  a  moment,  "But  I  don't  see  that  it  gets  us 
far." 

"It  gets  us  until  morning.  And  it  corrobo 
rates  my  suspicions. 

"Now  listen  carefully,  Ross,"  continued  Grim- 
stead,  "for  this  is  what  you  must  do.  You've 
got  to  get  out  of  here,  and  you've  got  to  take  this 
agreement  with  you  to  the  nearest  recorder's,  and 
get  it  entered.  That  means  you  start  to-night; 
just  as  soon  as  everybody  has  turned  in." 

Gardiner  nodded. 

"So  far,  so  good.  But  there's  another  thing. 
This  man  is  absolutely  capable  of  lying  down  on 
us,  no  matter  what  agreements  we  may  have." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Refuse  his  formula." 


236  ON    TIPTOE 

"But  you  can  ruin  him." 

"He'll  stand  that.  He'll  stand  for  anything 
now  he's  got  his  head  set.  That's  the  sort  they 
used  to  use  the  thumb  rack  on  without  much 


success." 


"I'll  bet  after  he's  had  a  good  dose  for  a  little 
while  he'll—  '  began  Gardiner  confidently. 

"You're  wrong.  Don't  argue.  I  know  what 
I  am  talking  about." 

"All  right;  what's  your  plan?  I  see  you've 
got  one." 

"Of  course  I  have  one.  What  do  you  think 
I've  gone  this  far  for?"  said  Grimstead  impa 
tiently.  "But  I  want  to  ask  you  one  question 
first:  could  you  analyse  this  battery,  if  you  had 
it,  and  reproduce  the  formula?" 

"Certainly,  if  what  he  says  is  true,  that  the 
plates  are  a  simple  alloy,  and  there  is  no  further 
secret.  It  will  only  be  necessary  to  analyse  them, 
measure  their  exact  proportions,  determine  their 
specific  gravity,  and  observe  carefully  any  pecu 
liarities  of  their  shape  and  position." 

"Remember,  their  distance  from  each  other 
is  important." 

"That,  of  course.  I  see  your  idea.  We  are 
to  steal  the  battery." 

"That's  it." 

"It  must  weigh  forty  pounds,"  objected  Gar 
diner.  "Do  we  hide  it  out  somewhere?" 


ON    TIPTOE  237 

"No,  you'll  drive  it  out.  The  roads  will  carry 
you;  I've  been  watching  them.  Put  the  battery 
back  in  that  rattletrap  of  his  and  drive  it  out." 

Gardiner  pondered. 

"When  we  stop  that  self-starter  it  will  be 
noticed,"  he  objected,  "and  there'll  be  a  lot  of 
noise  getting  away.  Simmins  sleeps  right  next 
door.  What  do  I  do  with  him?" 

"Simmins  is  already  taken  care  of,"  said  the 
Pirate  Chief  calmly.  "He  will  continue  to  sleep. 
That  drink  I  gave  him  will  fix  that." 

"Doped?"  surmised  Gardiner. 

"Just  that.  Morphine  from  the  medicine  case. 
And  we'll  feed  Davenport  a  little  of  the  same." 

"Chief,  you're  a  wonder!  You  think  of  every 
thing!"  cried  Gardiner  admiringly.  "I'd  suggest 
you  tie  him  up  after  he  goes  under  or  he'll  likely 
raise  hell  when  he  comes  to." 

"I  expect  to,"  said  Grimstead.  "Look  out; 
here  they  come!  You  understand  your  job,  and 
remember  it's  the  biggest  stake  in  the  world!" 


CHAPTER  XXII 

NOW  in  this  microcosm  amid  the  redwoods  all 
the  elements  of  the  laboratory  experiment 
were  present  and  had  acted.  The  solution  had 
precipitated ;  the  crystals  had  formed.  From  an 
average  group  of  people  this  Pressure  had  been 
lifted,  and  the  reactions  could  be  examined. 
With  the  results  our  great  Invisible  Intelligences 
were  not  content.  New  impetuses  had  been  born, 
commensurate  with  new  desires,  that  fully 
equalled  those  set  in  motion  by  the  old  Pressure, 
to  be  sure;  but  they  were  in  the  main  destruc 
tive.  Greed,  the  ruthless  use  of  power,  revenge, 
lying,  anger,  even  the  possibility  of  murder,  had 
been  unloosed  among  these  peaceful  trees.  The 
original  impulses  of  construction  had  been  over 
whelmed. 

The  results  of  premature  lifting  of  any  pres 
sure  that  has  been  useful  in  generating  desire  are 
always  those  of  degeneration  and  decay.  Men 
who  know  no  hunger  stir  not  from  beneath  the 
breadfruit  tree. 

So  here  the  great  Invisible  Intelligences  knew 
that  the  time  was  not  yet. 

238 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

EVENTS  ran  smoothly  along  the  plan  laid 
out  for  them  by  the  Pirate  Chief.  Burton 
and  Davenport  returned  shortly  to  the  campfire. 
At  a  suitable  time  a  night-cap  was  proposed  and 
drunk.  Soon  after,  with  Burton  in  her  tent  and 
Davenport  deep  in  stupor,  the  conspirators  had 
the  place  to  themselves.  When  the  light  of 
Burton's  tent  had  been  for  some  time  replaced 
with  a  silhouette  of  blackness,  Gardiner  arose, 
hunted  out  his  overcoat,  buttoned  the  agreement 
on  his  inside  pocket,  shook  hands  with  Grimstead, 
and  took  his  departure  down  the  meadow.  He 
carried  the  pocket  flashlight,  and  by  its  aid  he 
soon  disconnected  the  self-starter.  Silence 
rushed  in  upon  the  dying  clatter  as  into  a  vac 
uum.  Gardiner  paused  long  enough  to  look 
in  on  Simmins.  That  worthy  had  not  stirred. 

It  was  the  work  of  but  a  few  moments  more 
to  reinstall  the  battery  in  the  other  car,  as  it  was 
an  affair  only  of  four  bolts  and  two  wire  con 
nections.  Gardiner  turned  the  light  switch.  Im 
mediately  the  long  pencils  of  the  headlights 
pierced  the  darkness.  By  the  dashlights  he 
studied  and  mastered  the  control.  Then,  after 

239 


240  ON    TIPTOE 

storing  his  valise  under  the  rear  deck,  he  stepped 
aboard  and  threw  over  the  lever.  The  car  moved 
slowly  ahead  on  the  corduroy! 

Gardiner  drove  very  slowly  and  carefully,  eas 
ing  her  over  the  inequalities  of  the  improvised 
road.  Even  at  that  it  seemed  to  him  that  the 
whole  glade  was  filled  with  enough  rattles, 
squeaks,  impacts  and  hoarse,  tinny  vibrations  to 
awaken  the  dead.  As  a  matter  of  fact  there  was 
very  little  noise,  all  things  considered,  and  Grim- 
stead,  seated  before  the  dying  fire,  nodded  with 
satisfaction  as  he  heard  the  faint  sounds  of  prog 
ress. 

The  passage  across  the  new  laid  poles  was 
successfully  accomplished,  and  the  tortuous  way 
through  the  brush.  Once  on  the  soft  damp  road 
Gardiner  relaxed  and  leaned  back.  As  there  had 
been  no  traffic  while  the  mud  was  in  the  semi- 
liquid  state,  there  were  now  no  ruts.  A  mo 
ment's  trial  convinced  him  that  the  surface  would 
bear.  He  settled  down  comfortably.  Ahead  the 
shafts  of  light  threw  into  hard,  theatrical  promi 
nence  the  trunks  of  trees,  the  tracery  of  leaves, 
the  lacery  of  bracken  and  brush.  These  were 
flat,  on  one  plane,  as  though  cut  from  cardboard. 
Then  one  by  one  they  passed  into  the  penumbra 
on  either  side,  and  glided  by  as  dim  ghosts.  The 
road  wound  and  twisted,  rose  and  fell,  and  the 
light  shafts  swept  from  right  to  left  and  up 


ON    TIPTOE  241 

and  down  to  reveal  momentarily  new  things.  An 
owl,  surprised  by  the  sudden  glare,  flapped  heav 
ily  across. 

Gardiner  experimented  cautiously  with  the 
control.  The  mechanism  was  wonderfully  re 
sponsive.  He  found  the  engine  much  more  flexi 
ble  than  any  gasoline  car  he  had  ever  driven. 
For  a  few  minutes  he  amused  himself  bringing 
it  almost  to  a  stop,  and  then  picking  up  smoothly 
and  positively  by  merely  opening  the  throttle. 
The  throttle  was  very  sensitive.  Under  its  im 
pulse,  when  Gardiner  for  the  first  time  stepped 
on  it  incautiously,  the  light  car  almost  jumped 
from  under  him. 

The  mechanism  was  silent  except  for  a  faint 
hum  of  the  differential  gear,  although,  of  course, 
there  were  plenty  of  body  squeaks  and  rattles. 
This  absence  of  the  regular  busy  rhythm  of  the 
gasoline  motor  made  it  extremely  difficult  to  es 
timate  speed.  Gardiner's  glance  at  the  speed 
ometer  dial  showed  him  a  pace  he  had  not  re 
alised.  However,  the  car  itself  was  so  light  that 
he  found  it  could  be  checked  easily  by  the  brakes. 
Gardiner  settled  down  to  the  sheer  pleasure  of 
driving  as  fast  as  his  skill  would  permit.  He 
was  a  good  driver,  and  he  understood  well  how 
to  pick  up  on  the  straightaways  and  just  how 
much  to  check  at  the  curves.  And  he  was  a  safe 
driver,  as  genuine  skill  is  usually  safe. 


242  ON    TIPTOE 

Now  we  begin  to  see  the  great,  sweeping  curve 
of  events,  the  curve  that  had  seemed  to  us  a 
straight  line. 

For  Gardiner  was  not  alone  in  the  car.  No 
less  a  personage  than  Punketty-Snivvles  occu 
pied  the  seat  next  him,  though  the  Second  in 
Command  was  as  yet  ignorant  of  that  fact. 

Punketty-Snivvles  did  not  belong  there.  He 
had  fallen  from  his  erstwhile  high  estate  of  be 
ing  tucked  in  by  mistress  in  a  pink-lined  basket ; 
but  he  had  not  yet  arrived  at  the  degradation 
of  caring  for  himself.  Simmins  had  lately  done 
the  tuck  in.  None  better  than  Punketty-Snivvles 
knew  this  was  a  come-down;  but  he  accepted  it, 
and  placed  against  it  the  belief  that  he  was  now 
a  Rough  Rude  Dog,  like  Rapscallion.  But  to 
night  Simmins,  through  no  fault  of  his  own,  had 
passed  out,  and  our  hero,  sub-one,  had  missed 
his  usual  attention.  To  be  sure  there  the  basket 
stood,  and  Punketty-Snivvles  could  quite  well 
have  hopped  into  it.  But  his  sense  of  the  pro 
prieties  was  outraged,  and  he  simply  would  not 
do  it!  He  much  preferred  to  be  uncomfortable 
and  retain  the  right  to  have  his  feelings  hurt. 
So  he  climbed  into  the  seat  of  the  little  car  where 
his  protective  coloration  had  concealed  him  from 
Gardiner's  notice. 

The  obvious  thing  to  have  done  in  so  delicate 
a  situation  was  to  have  called  attention  to  him- 


ON    TIPTOE  243 

self;  but  Punketty-Snivvles  was  exasperated  be 
yond  obedience  to  convention.  He  preferred  to 
sulk  and  glower  and  brood  on  his  wrongs.  It 
must  be  recalled  to  your  mind  that  Gardiner 
had  cuffed  Punketty-Snivvles  soundly  when  that 
personage  had  been  left  in  his  charge.  You  re 
member  I  asked  you  to  file  that  away  for  future 
reference.  So  now  he  crouched  in  his  place,  and 
fixed  his  beady  eyes  in  malevolence  on  his  enemy, 
and  worked  up  a  fine  big  Teutonic  hate. 

The  road  wound  between  the  great  redwoods, 
steadily  descending.  It  had  no  abrupt  curves, 
but  one  could  never  see  more  than  a  hundred 
feet  or  so  ahead.  As  the  bottom  of  the  declivity 
was  neared  the  noise  of  another,  and  evidently 
larger  stream  could  be  heard,  flowing  at  the  bot 
tom  of  the  canon.  Gardiner  flashed  around  a  last 
corner  to  see  ahead  of  him  a  straight  bridge. 
The  lights  showed  him  its  approach  on  a  slight 
rise,  and  that  it  was  built  on  a  high  trestle.  Then 
the  nose  of  the  car  touched  the  slight  rise  and 
the  lights  lifted.  At  the  same  instant  Punketty- 
Snivvles,  whose  hate  had  worked  up  to  the  point 
of  action,  reached  out  and  bit  Gardiner  in  the 
wrist ! 

Gardiner,  who  had  not  known  of  the  dog's 
presence,  jumped  in  surprise  and  alarm.  The 
car  swerved,  but  he  was  too  cool  a  driver  to  per 
mit  it  to  leave  the  road.  However,  for  three  sec- 


244  ON    TIPTOE 

onds  his  attention  was  deflected,  and  that  time 
was  sufficient  to  shoot  the  car  onto  the  planking 
of  the  bridge.  Gardiner  saw  all  this  with  the 
corner  of  his  eye  and  steered  straight  and  true, 
while  at  the  same  time  his  direct  vision  was  oc 
cupied  in  identifying  the  cowering  little  dog. 
Then  he  looked  back  to  the  front.  Before  him 
yawned  an  abyss.  The  bridge  had  been  carried 
away  by  the  flood. 

Even  while  he  reached  for  the  brake  his  brain 
photographed  clearly  the  jagged  edges  of  the 
bridge,  the  opposite  bank  picked  out  clearly  by 
the  lights,  and  dimly  far  below  a  white  and  phos 
phorescent  tumble  of  waters  hastening  to  the 
sea.  The  brakes  checked  the  momentum  almost 
but  not  quite  enough.  The  car  slowed,  ran  off 
the  edge,  seemed  for  an  instant  to  hover  right 
side  up  like  a  bird.  Then  down  it  plunged  and 
the  foaming,  turbulent  waters  seized  it  and  bore 
it  shouting  away. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

BY  the  campfire  Grimstead  strained  his  ears 
to  catch  the  last  sounds  of  departure. 
Things  were  going  very  well.  They  always  did 
go  well,  he  had  found,  when  directed  masterfully. 
Burton,  as  he  had  foreseen,  did  not  stir  in  her 
tent.  She  was  young  and  slept  soundly,  especially 
in  the  first  part  of  the  night.  After  a  while  he 
threw  away  his  cigar,  stretched  and  arose.  First 
he  leaned  over  Davenport  for  a  moment,  listen 
ing  to  his  rather  stertorous  breathing.  Then  he 
sauntered  to  the  big  redwood  at  whose  base  the 
kitchen  had  been  made.  Here  he  deliberately 
unknotted  a  short  piece  of  line  that  had  been  used 
to  suspend  a  shading  bit  of  canvas,  and  with 
it  returned  toward  the  sleeper.  He  was  thor 
oughly  satisfied,  and  was  humming  a  little  tune. 
In  his  brief  absence  another  had  added  him 
self  to  the  scene.  Rapscallion  had  continued  to 
share  the  tent  with  Burton.  Now,  however, 
urged  by  some  vague  restlessness,  some  tele 
pathic  uneasiness,  some  trickle  from  the  current 
searching  out  a  channel  of  his  doggy  mind,  he 
had  deserted  the  warm  and  grateful  nest  and 
had  come  forth  to  sit  by  his  master. 

245 


246  ON    TIPTOE 

Grimstead  paid  him  no  attention;  but,  cord 
in  hand,  advanced  upon  the  sleeper.  Now  the 
queer  thing  happened.  Rapscallion  was  the  most 
friendly  of  dogs,  ever  polite  and  eager,  whose 
experiences  with  humans  had  always  been  courte 
ous.  Also  he  was,  of  course,  thoroughly  familiar 
with  Grimstead.  Now,  however,  he  arose  to 
stiff  legs,  his  eyes  blazing,  the  coarse  hair  of  his 
back  and  neck  erect,  his  lips  snarled  back.  Grim- 
stead  paused. 

"Here,  Rap,  you  old  fool!"  he  admonished  in 
a  low  voice.  "What  ails  you?" 

And  again  stepped  forward. 

Instantly  Rapscallion  uttered  two  sharp  and 
challenging  barks. 

The  sleeper  did  not  stir;  no  sound  came  from 
the  tent.  Grimstead  stepped  forward  again. 

Now  Rapscallion  did  not  know  what  it  was 
all  about.  Only  his  simple  dog  mind  had  re 
ceived  the  impression  that,  unexplainedly  and  for 
the  first  time,  the  proximity  of  this  large  human 
meant  trouble  to  Master;  and  his  simple  dog 
code  told  him  to  stick  tight,  say  as  much  as  he 
could  about  it,  and  in  extremity  to  do  his  ut 
most.  If  he  had  a  private  thought  apart,  which 
is  improbable,  it  was  a  fleeting  one  of  despair 
at  relative  sizes  and  powers ;  but  it  did  not  aif ect 
his  course  of  conduct.  He  began  again  to  bark 
rapidly  and  warningly.  As  Grimstead  continued 


ON    TIPTOE  247 

to  advance  he  deployed  all  his  available  horrific 
camouflage  to  the  job  of  concealing  or  distract 
ing  attention  from  his  size  and  weakness;  he 
added  an  under-growl  in  his  throat;  he  snarled 
back  his  lips  to  show  all  his  teeth;  he  threw  in 
a  sharp  staccato  to  his  remarks;  with  each  bark 
he  bobbed  forward  and  back  a  few  inches  as 
though  propelled  by  a  spring.  These  things  im 
pressed  Grimstead  just  so  far  as  to  cause  him 
to  pick  up  a  heavy,  club-shaped  billet  of  wood, 
a  weapon  that  plainly  outgunned  the  armament 
of  a  little  red-dog  who  fought  at  fifteen  pounds ! 

At  this  moment  Burton  appeared  from  the 
tent. 

"Dad,"  she  cried,  "what  are  you  doing  with 
that  club  and  that  rope?  I'll  keep  him  quiet!" 

Her  first  sleepy  thought  was  that  the  dog's 
barking  had  awakened  Grimstead  and  exasper 
ated  him  to  the  point  of  canicide.  As  her  mind 
cleared  and  focussed,  however,  her  eyes  widened 
with  terror.  Davenport's  immobility  amid  all 
this  noise,  Grimstead's  day  attire;  what  did  it 
mean?  She  dashed  forward  to  the  young  man 
and,  undeterred  by  Rapscallion,  fell  on  her  knees 
at  his  side. 

"What  have  you  done?  What  have  you 
done?"  she  cried,  terror-stricken. 

"Nothing — nothing  at  all — he's  perfectly  all 
right!"  cried  Grimstead,  whose  one  idea  was  to 


248  ON    TIPTOE 

reassure  her  before  she  lost  control  of  herself. 
"He's  not  hurt.  He'll  be  as  well  as  ever  in  the 
morning." 

But  by  this  time  Burton  had  assured  herself 
that  he  was  living  and  unhurt,  and  she  rose 
slowly  to  her  feet.  Her  brow  was  puckered  in 
thought. 

"You've  drugged  him,"  she  decided  at  last. 
She  pondered  for  a  moment  more,  then  raised 
her  head. 

"The  engine  has  stopped — you  have  stolen  the 
car!"  she  cried  in  sudden  enlightenment.  A  deep 
scorn  rose  to  the  surface  of  her  eyes.  "And  now 
you  were  going  to  tie  him!  You're  afraid  of 
what  he  might  do!" 

On  the  passing  of  the  danger  of  hysterics 
Grimstead  became  himself  again.  This  was  too 
big  a  matter  to  permit  of  sentiment.  He  spoke 
brusquely. 

"This  is  not  woman's  business,  Burton,"  said 
he,  "and  you  must  not  interfere.  No  harm  is 
intended  to  your  young  man.  Indeed  I  am 
saving  him  from  himself;  and  in  the  future  he 
will  thank  me  for  making  him  a  rich  man  instead 
of  permitting  him  to  ruin  himself  by  foolish 


ness." 


"He  will  never  thank  you;  and  I  will  never 
forgive  you!"  she  cried  passionately. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.     Women  always 


ON    TIPTOE  249 

got  over  these  things.  Still  a  slight  change  in 
minor  tactics  seemed  desirable.  It  would  no 
longer  be  possible  or  desirable  to  restrain  the 
young  man  by  force.  There  remained  then  for 
Grimstead  himself  to  withdraw  until  the  first 
passions  at  discovery  should  simmer  down  nearer 
common  sense.  He  turned  aside  and  picked  up 
J/is  blankets. 

"I'll  leave  him  to  you,"  he  told  Burton.  "Try 
to  get  some  common  sense  into  him — if  it's  pos 
sible.  But  be  sure  to  tell  him  one  thing:  that 
his  interests  are  going  to  be  scrupulously  pro 
tected.  He'll  get  every  cent  that  is  coming  to 
him." 

He  disappeared  down  the  meadow.  Burton 
looked  after  him,  her  bosom  heaving  with  emo 
tions  too  deep  for  reply.  Then  in  a  passion  of 
mingled  loyalty  and  anger  she  fell  on  her  knees 
again  beside  the  unconscious  young  man. 

Rapscallion  yawned  and  stretched.  The  trou 
ble,  whatever  it  was,  seemed  to  be  happily  over. 
After  a  moment  he  wandered  carelessly  away,  as 
though  on  an  aimless  saunter.  Once  out  of  sight, 
however,  he  pattered  rapidly  into  the  tent,  leaped 
upon  Burton's  cot  and  curled  himself  into  a  lux 
urious  ball. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

NOTHING  further  happened  now  until 
shortly  after  sunrise  the  next  morning. 
Then  Burton,  who  had  fallen  into  an  uneasy  slum 
ber  after  some  hours  of  futile  watching  to  see  that 
dear  Larry  did  not  die  of  an  overdose  without  her 
knowing  it,  shivered  and  awoke.  For  a  moment 
she  stared  about  her  vacantly.  Then  recollection 
too  awoke,  and  she  reached  out  to  shake  Daven 
port  by  the  shoulder.  The  young  man  continued 
to  sleep,  but  he  half  roused  himself,  and  he 
turned  and  muttered  before  settling  himself 
again.  This  was  distinctly  encouraging.  At 
least  the  first  deadening  effects  of  the  morphine 
must  have  worked  themselves  off.  Burton  tried 
again,  and  yet  again,  until  at  length  he  opened 
a  sleepy  eye.  The  first  expression  of  the  said 
eye  was  vacant,  but  when  recognition  entered,  its 
owner  sat  up  broad  awake. 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  he  cried.  "What  are  you 
doing  here?'5 

"I'm  all  right,"  she  assured  him,  "but  I've 
something  to  tell  you.  Wake  up  first." 

He  made  a  powerful  effort  for  control  of  his 
faculties. 

250 


ON    TIPTOE  251 

"Lord,  I've  got  a  head!"  he  confessed.  "And 
all  on  one  little  drink!  I  can't  think!"  He 
shook  the  said  head  gingerly  from  side  to  side, 
then  took  it  in  his  hands. 

"I'm  going  now  to  get  dressed,"  she  told  him. 
"You'd  better  go  down  to  the  creek  and  try  cold 
water." 

"Where's  your  father?"  he  enquired,  looking 
around. 

"That's  part  of  it.  Get  dressed  quickly. 
Hurry!" 

She  disappeared  into  the  tent  whence  came 
the  sound  of  a  light  body  hitting  the  ground, 
succeeded  by  the  sight  of  Rapscallion  sauntering 
forth,  trying,  with  only  partial  success,  to  look 
like  a  dog  who  had  not  slept  in  a  bed. 

Larry  drew  on  his  clothes  and  stumbled  to 
the  creek,  where  the  cold  water  soon  removed  the 
last  effects  of  the  narcotic.  He  returned  to  camp 
to  find  Burton  awaiting  him.  Her  story  did  not 
take  long  in  the  telling.  Davenport  listened  at 
tentively,  with  but  a  single  comment,  but  the 
weathered  red  of  his  face  darkened,  and  the  boy 
ishness  drained  from  his  eyes,  leaving  them  steely. 
The  one  comment  came  when  Burton  described 
Rapscallion's  brave  stand. 

"It's  as  well  he  slept  out,"  said  Davenport 
grimly,  his  hand  groping  for  the  red-dog's  head. 

The  narrative  finished,  he  rose  to  his  feet, 


252  ON    TIPTOE 

fumbled  in  his  pack,  drew  forth  a  revolver  and 
holster,  which  he  strapped  to  his  belt. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  she  asked  anx 
iously. 

"I'm  going  to  follow  the  car." 

"You  can't  hope  to  catch  it  afoot!" 

"The  chance  is  very  slim,"  he  acknowledged, 
"but  it's  the  only  chance,  and  it  should  be  taken. 
Luck  might  play  with  us.  The  car  might  get 
stalled.  Who  knows?  And  in  any  case  I've 
got  to  get  on  the  wires  to  the  lawyers  right 
away." 

He  was  methodically  bestowing  small  neces 
saries  in  a  rucksack. 

"Please  have  Simmins  take  care  of  my  other 
things,"  he  requested.  "Good-bye,  dear." 

He  opened  his  arms  and  she  crept  into  them. 
They  clung  together  for  a  moment. 

"Be  careful,"  she  begged.  "You  must  come 
back  to  me.  Don't — don't  be  rash,  will  you?" 

He  laughed. 

"You  mean  the  gun  ?  No ;  I'm  not  going  forth 
to  slay.  That's  just  in  the  remote  case  I  need 
a  convincing  argument.  This  is  a  lawyer  game 
now,  and  a  game  of  get  there  first."  He  laughed 
again.  "And,  dearest,  we're  going  to  lick  them! 
I  have  a  hunch!  It  just  came  to  me  with  the 
most  overpowering  force.  It's  coming  out  all 
right!" 


ON    TIPTOE  253 

He  kissed  her  again  and  strode  away. 

"Come  back  to  me  soon!"  she  called  after  him. 

"The  soonest  ever!"  he  cried  back. 

After  his  departure  Burton,  whose  education 
had  been  coming  on,  made  herself  some  coffee. 
About  two  hours  later  Simmins  appeared,  very 
apologetic  over  his  tardiness,  but  more  aston 
ished  at  the  disappearance  of  personnel  and  ma 
teriel.  The  absence  of  the  little  car  Burton  had 
expected;  but  she  was  at  first  puzzled  to  hear 
that  the  extra  cooking  utensils,  which  had  been 
taken  to  the  lower  camp  for  the  use  of  the 
watchers  in  making  their  breakfast,  had  disap 
peared;  as  also  a  small  quantity  of  provisions. 
This  did  not  impress  Simmins  much,  for  he 
thought  naturally  that  whoever  had  taken  the 
car  must  also  have  carried  off  the  supplies;  but 
Burton  knew  better.  Then  enlightenment  caused 
her  lips  to  curve  in  a  slightly  scornful  smile. 
The  Pirate  Chief,  of  course!  He  had  taken  not 
only  his  blankets,  but  his  provision.  He  was  hid 
ing  out,  and  Burton  had  a  shrewd  suspicion  that 
he  would  continue  hiding  out.  Even  a  Pirate 
Chief  has,  if  not  tender  feelings,  at  least  love 
of  mental  ease;  and  Burton  realised  that  even 
this  stern  parent  might  be  just  as  well  satisfied 
if  he  did  not  have  to  face  his  child  while  things 
were  too  fresh  in  her  mind ! 

"Simmins,  see  if  Mr.  Grimstead's  fishing  tackle 


254  ON    TIPTOE 

is  here,"  she  ordered  at  this  stage  in  her  reason 
ing. 

Simmins'  report  that  the  fishing  tackle  had 
been  taken  confirmed  her  opinion. 

"You  and  I  will  probably  have  to  wait  here 
some  days,"  she  interrupted  Simmins'  excited 
conjectures.  "Mr.  Gardiner  and  Mr.  Davenport 
have  gone  away  in  the  car,  probably  to  get  help 
or  on  business.  Father  has  undoubtedly  gone 
for  a  day  or  two's  fishing  down  stream;  I  be 
lieve  he  mentioned  it." 

She  spoke  with  elaborate  appearance  of  indif 
ference.  But  for  once  Simmins  broke  through 
of  his  own  volition. 

"Oh,  Miss !"  he  implored.  "Do  not  longer  keep 
me  in  the  dark.  I  know  well  that  dark  deeds 
are  afoot.  Can  you  not  accept  me  as  a  faithful 
servitor  of  your  interests  and  confide  in  me  the 
truth?" 

Simmins  was  as  well  satisfied  with  the  diction 
and  delivery  of  that  speech  as  with  anything  he 
had  ever  done.  The  substitution  of  "proud 
beauty"  for  "Miss"  would  have  made  it  perfect; 
but  the  exigencies  of  his  audience  precluded  that. 
You  have,  to  some  extent,  to  give  the  public  what 
it  wants. 

The  appeal,  however,  was  genuine  and  irre 
sistible.  While  they  cooked  breakfast  the  two 
talked  eagerly.  The  situation  was  thrilling,  and 


ON    TIPTOE  255 

they  young.  They  thrilled,  and  speculated,  and 
wondered,  and  worked  each  other  up  mutually 
to  a  high  state  of  romance.  Simmins'  dramatic 
sense  soared.  He  shook  his  toasting  fork,  he 
declaimed,  he  dropped  his  veneer  and  talked  nat 
ural  language.  That  is,  natural  language  for 
Simmins;  not  for  you  nor  me  nor  anybody  else 
hut  the  splendid  heroes  of  G.  P.  R.  James.  Sud 
denly  Burton  checked  herself  and  laughed. 

"Simmins!"  she  cried.    "I  knew  you  could  do 
it!    You've  become  human!" 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

SHORTLY  after  noon  they  were  astonished  to 
see  Davenport  returning.  Burton  ran  to 
meet  him  with  a  cry  of  mingled  gladness  and 
curiosity.  He  replied  curtly.  His  eye  was  sav 
age,  his  lips  compressed.  She  looked  at  him,  then 
fell  silent.  As  they  entered  camp  she  made  an 
imperative  gesture  to  Simmins  of  warning  that 
he  should  not  speak. 

Larry  strode  to  the  fireside  and  threw  down 
the  rucksack  with  a  slam,  then  turned  to  Burton. 

"Well,  they've  done  it  now!"  he  snarled.  "I'd 
like  to  wring  some  one's  neck." 

He  looked  slowly  around,  and  the  innocent 
Simmins  shrank  visibly. 

"Gone!  Completely  gone!"  he  cried.  "Not  a 
stick  or  hide  or  hair  left ;  and  try  as  I  can  I  can't 
remember  the  first  thing  about  it,  the  very  first 
step!" 

Burton  stepped  to  his  side. 

"Dear,  remember  we  don't  know  what  you 
are  talking  about,"  she  said.  "Can't  you  try 
to  tell  us  what  has  happened?  Did  he  get  away 
completely?" 

Davenport  laughed  savagely. 

256 


ON    TIPTOE  257 

"Got  away!  That's  it,  got  away!"  he  rejoined. 
"Got  away  so  far  nobody  will  ever  be  able  to 
follow  and  bring  the  secret  back  from  him !  The 
biggest  thing  the  world  has  ever  seen!  Gone!" 

She  drew  him  by  gentle  force  to  her  side  on 
the  log.  Simmins  was  watching  with  wide,  awe- 
stricken  eyes. 

"Now,"  she  said  sensibly,  "tell  me  about  it.  I 
can't  make  head  or  tail  out  of  such  hysterics." 

He  jerked  back  as  though  the  word  had  been 
a  whip  with  which  he  had  been  hit  in  the  face. 
Which  was  to  Burton  an  intended  and  satisfac 
tory  reaction. 

"I  followed  the  car  for  six  or  eight  miles  to 
the  place  the  road  crossed  the  Deep  Barranca 
on  a  trestle.  Part  of  the  trestle  had  been  car 
ried  out  by  the  flood.  Gardiner  had  driven  the 
car  off  into  the  abyss." 

"Killed?"  cried  Burton,  horrified. 

"Gone;  swept  away,  disappeared  completely. 
The  stream  is  wide  and  swift  and  fast.  I  climbed 
down,  of  course,  but  no  trace  whatever  remained 
except  one  seat  cushion  that  had  been  thrown 
clear.  I  followed  down  the  stream  on  the  chance 
that  the  car  might  have  stranded;  but  in  that 
force  of  water  it  probably  broke  to  pieces  almost 
at  once.  It  was  of  very  light  construction." 

"What  a  tragedy !"  cried  Burton.  "Poor  Ross 
Gardiner!" 


258  ON    TIPTOE 

Davenport  shut  his  lips  grimly  and  let  this 
pass.  After  a  decent  moment  or  so  Burton  ven 
tured  a  comment. 

"But  there  is  this  to  say:  the  present  problem 
is  solved.  The  agreement  is  gone,  the  whole 
scheme  headed  off.  You  can  build  another  bat 
tery." 

"That's  just  it!"  cried  Davenport,  his  excite 
ment  returning.  "I'm  not  sure  I  can  do  any 
thing  of  the  sort." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  demanded  sharply. 

"I  mean  just  this,"  he  replied  with  bitter  de 
liberation;  "all  my  notebooks  of  formulas  were 
in  that  car,  every  scrap  of  paper  I  had  in  the 
world  that  had  anything  to  do  with  this." 

She  stared  at  him,  taking  this  in. 

"I  was  a  fool,  of  course,"  he  went  on,  "but  I 
wanted  to  keep  things  by  me." 

She  was  recovering  a  little. 

"You  can  copy  your  other  battery,"  she 
pointed  out. 

"Other  battery?" 

"Didn't  you  say  you'd  built  two?" 

"Oh!  the  first  was  crude.  I  used  it  only  a 
little  while.  It  was  dismantled  long  ago." 

"You  will  work  it  out  again,"  she  comforted. 
"It  may  be  a  slow  task,  but  you'll  get  it." 

He  looked  at  her  with  something  like  fright 
in  his  eyes. 


ON    TIPTOE  259 

"I  do  not  know!"  he  almost  whispered.  "I 
thought  that  at  first,  and  I  did  not  really  care 
very  much.  But  then  all  at  once  when  I  sat 
down  to  think  about  it  I  discovered  that  I  had 
not  one  shred  of  memory  of  how  to  make  a  start 
at  it.  It's  gone!" 

"But  when  you  get  in  your  workshop — " 
"You  don't  understand;  it's  all  gone!  I  can't 
even  remember  what  a  single  one  of  the  metals 
in  my  alloys  were!  And  they  were  common 
metals,  too.  I  can't  recollect  whether  there  was 
lead  in  them,  or  iron,  or  copper;  and  yet  I  know 
that  the  metals  were  some  of  them  as  common 
as  that!  And  as  for  temperatures  and  such 
things — all  gone;  wiped  out!" 

She  looked  at  him  in  slight  bewilderment. 
"Why,  Larry!"  she  cried.  "I  hardly  know 
you.  It  isn't  like  you  to  be  discouraged.  This 
mood  will  pass.  It  is  sheer  nonsense.  Of  course 
you  will  work  it  out  again,  as  you  did  at  first. 
What  does  it  matter  if  it  does  take  time?  You'll 
get  it." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"No,  I'm  not  a  quitter,"  he  disclaimed.  "I 
know  it  sounds  like  it.  But  this  has  become  a 
certainty  to  me.  It  has  come  to  me  in  the  same 
way  that  all  these  other  things  have  come  to  me. 
Perhaps  it  is  the  last  of  these  beautiful  certainties 
from  the  current  of  wisdom.  It  was  given  to 


260  ON    TIPTOE 

me,  and  now  I  feel  that  it  has  been  taken 
away.  I  never  was  more  sure  of  anything  in 
my  life." 

She  stared  at  him,  aghast.  A  slow  conviction 
was  entering  her  too,  a  conviction  she  tried  to 
stifle,  an  unreasonable  conviction  that  could  not 
be  explained.  Some  mighty  and  beautiful  Vision 
that  had  touched  them  with  its  presence  was  un 
folding  its  wings  for  flight. 

"Such  things  cannot  happen!"  she  cried,  all 
aflame. 

He  shook  his  head.  In  his  uplifted  face  was 
no  discouragement,  only  the  sorrow  of  regret. 

Unnoticed  a  lank  figure  had  crossed  the 
meadow  from  the  road  and  now  appeared  among 
them. 

"Hullo,  folks,"  said  he,  casting  a  curious  eye 
about  him.  "Campin'  for  fun,  or  get  stuck  yere 
by  the  storm?" 

"Caught  by  the  storm,"  replied  Burton,  who 
had  the  better  command  of  herself. 

The  stranger  spat  carefully  out  of  camp. 

"I'm  the  stage  driver  between  Eureka  and 
Tecolote,"  he  volunteered,  "but  I  don't  see  no 
way  of  gettin'  through  now.  That  there  red 
wood  tree's  got  the  road  blocked  for  keeps.  Say, 
she  must  have  made  some  crash  when  she  come 
down!" 

"She  did,"  replied  Burton.    An  idea  was  form- 


ON    TIPTOE  261 

ing  in  her  brain.    "Are  you  going  back  to  Eu 
reka?"  she  enquired. 

"Sure.     Only  place  to  go." 

"Have  you  got  room  for  two?" 

"I  got  only  the  U.  S.  mails  aboard.    What's 

the  idea?" 

"Our  car  is  broken,"  she  explained  rapidly. 

"If  you  will  wait  ten  minutes,  we'll  be  ready." 

"Lots  of  time,"  rejoined  the  stage  driver,  and 

sauntered  over  to  engage  the  excellent  Simmins. 

"It  is  the  only  thing!"  she  urged  Larry,  as 

soon  as  the  other  was  out  of  hearing.     "Can't 

you  see  it  is?    We  cannot  stay  here.    Don't  you 

see  it?"  she  implored. 

"I  want  to  get  out  before  he  gets  back,"  re 
plied  Larry  bluntly.    "You're  right;  I'll  go." 
"I'm  going  with  you,"  she  said  steadily. 
"What!    You  cannot  do  that!" 
"You  are  going  to  need  me;  I  know,"  she  in 
sisted,  "it  is  part  of  my  wisdom,  as  you  call  it." 
The  hunted,  hurt  look  in  his  face  softened. 
"Come,"  he  cried  almost  exultantly.     "There 
must  be  people  who  marry  people  up  here!    The 
world  and  its  power  and  its  troubles  can  go 
hang!" 

She  was  at  once  a-wing,  flitting  like  a  bird 
as  she  gathered  the  few  things  she  wanted  to  take 
with  her,  carolling  little  snatches  of  song  under 
her  breath.  In  a  moment  she  was  ready. 


262  ON    TIPTOE 

"All  aboard!"  called  Davenport  to  the  stage 
driver.  "Ready  when  you  are." 

"Simmins,"  ordered  Burton,  "you  take  care 
of  things.  We  will  send  some  one  out  from  a 
garage." 

But  Simmins,  at  the  thought  of  being  left 
alone  with  a  marooned  and  exasperated  Pirate 
Chief,  lost  all  his  pose  and  poise  and  became 
thoroughly  human. 

"Oh,  Miss  Burton!"  he  cried.  "Don't  do  that 
to  me!  Let  me  go  with  you!  We  can  send  a 
man  out  to-night  to  Mr.  Grimstead;  I'll  gladly 
make  up  a  bonus  from  my  own  pocket — what 
ever  is  necessary.  Don't  leave  me  here  all 
alone!" 

"Afraid  of  the  woods,  Simmins?"  asked  Larry 
mischievously. 

"Yes,  sir,"  rejoined  Simmins  with  unexampled 
candour,  "I  am  afraid  of  the  woods;  and  I  am 
afraid  of  Mr.  Grimstead.  Remember,  sir,  he 
might  at  any  moment  discover  that  paper  is  gone 
— unless  Mr.  Gardiner  had  it — I  don*t  know 
what  I  am  saying,  but  don't  leave  me  here." 

Larry  glanced  at  Burton,  who  nodded. 

"All  right ;  come  along,"  he  agreed.  "Get  your 
things  together." 

"They  are  all  together,"  Simmins  assured  him 
fervently,  "since  morning,  sir." 

"Well,  come  on  then." 


ON    TIPTOE  263 

"One  moment,  sir,"  begged  Simmins. 

He  produced  a  pad  and  pencil  and  wrote 
thereon.  The  finished  result  he  folded  and 
placed  in  a  conspicuous  position. 

"I  don't  want  to  pry;  but  if  that  note  is  to 
Mr.  Grimstead — "  suggested  Davenport. 

"It  is  only  my  resignation,  sir/'  replied  Sim 
mins,  humbly.  "It  would  not  be  in  any  way 
proper  for  me  to  leave  Mr.  Grimstead's  employ 
for  another's  without  offering  my  resignation; 
now  would  it,  sir?" 

Davenport  surveyed  the  little  man  kindly. 

"Certainly  not,  Simmins;  you  are  quite  right," 
he  answered.  "What  would  you  consider  the 
proper  procedure  for  a  young  lady  eloping — " 
He  glanced  after  Burton  to  be  sure  she  was  out 
of  hearing.  "Should  she  also  leave  some  sort 
of  written  communication?  And  in  my  own  case, 
as  a  sort  of  guest  of  the  place,  should  I  too  leave 
a  note?  The  circumstances,  I  confess,  are  un 
usual;  and  the  conventions  in  my  profession  are 
not  so  closely  studied  as  in  yours." 

His  voice  and  face  betrayed  nothing  but  the 
deepest,  gravest  concern.  Simmins,  immensely 
flattered,  pondered  deeply. 

"It  is  usual,  sir,  for  the  young  lady  to  leave 
a  note  pinned  on  her  pin-cushion,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  allaying  anxiety  over  her  disappearance. 
I  took  the  liberty  of  explaining  in  my  note  that 


264  ON    TIPTOE 

I  was  leaving  to  enter  your  service,  sir,  and  that 
of  Miss  Burton;  and  that  it  is  intended  to  send 
a  garage  man  immediately." 

"Then  you  consider  a  note  from  Miss  Burton 
unnecessary?" 

"Quite,  sir,"  replied  Simmins  firmly. 

"And  myself?" 

"You,  sir,  I  should  have  considered  rather  a 
partner  than  a  guest." 

"You  relieve  my  mind,  Simmins,"  murmured 
Larry,  and  hastened  to  join  Burton  and  the  stage 
driver.  She  looked  at  him  with  pleased  sur 
prise. 

"Good!"  she  cried.  "You're  more  like  your 
self!" 

"It's  Simmins!"  Larry  exploded  with  sup 
pressed  laughter.  "He's  a  joy  and  a  jewel  and 
he's  untwisted  me  from  all  my  knots.  Dear, 
never  must  we  lose  Simmins!  We'll  pawn  the 
family  jewels  before  we  let  him  go." 

The  little  party,  carrying  the  few  pieces  of 
baggage,  and  followed  solemnly  by  Rapscallion, 
crossed  the  meadow  to  where  waited  the  stage. 

Ten  minutes  later  Grimstead,  who  had  heard 
the  racket  made  when  the  long  vehicle  backed 
and  filled  in  turning  around,  came  curiously  to 
see  what  was  happening.  He  found  himself  alone 
with  the  wrecks  he  had  made. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

ACROSS  the  episode  now  slowly  the  dark 
curtains  closed.  A  great  vision  had  been 
given  one  man;  a  vision  that  in  its  due  and  proper 
time  will  lift  from  mankind  one  of  its  greatest 
Pressures.  But  that  time  had  not  yet  arrived. 
When  thus  it  too  evidently  appeared  that  from 
the  gift  would  come  strife,  not  freedom,  then  the 
great  Invisible  Intelligences,  whose  Pressure  is 
the  carrying  on  with  wisdom  of  our  little  world, 
in  sadness  reached  forth  their  hands.  From  the 
soul  of  that  man  the  vision  was  erased.  Of  all  its 
breadth  and  greatness  remained  only  one  little 
thing:  an  idea  for  this  story.  But  some  time,  in 
the  remote  future,  somewhere,  to  some  soul  the 
vision  will  come  again. 


THE  END 


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